Echo
by Hallucifer
Summary: Lucifer is still there and Sam doesn't understand why. But as Lucifer begins to become more and more desperate for his attention for unknown reasons, Sam is forced to consider that this is more than a hallucination. Reluctant attempts to compromise the situation for his own sake lead to something more than Sam ever expected. Hallucifer fic. Samifer in later chapters.
1. Pay Attention To Me

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter One: Pay Attention To Me**

He had some vague recognition of some brief, faceless friend at one of his many past school repeating to him some advice from their mother: "if you ignore them, they'll get bored and go away". At the time, this vague friend had been referring to a group of older bullies that had been flicking paper at them from the back of the classroom. Sam had tried and tried to ignore them, but it had continued all lesson without any sign of the proposed 'getting bored', so Sam had eventually taken matters into his own hands and later decked two of the boys in the playground. Dean had said that was a much better solution, before telling him not to listen to any more "wimpy" suggestions.

Sam wondered what Dean would do if he decided to deal with his current problem in the same way. Somehow decking the devil didn't seem as if it would be as effective as on a couple of bratty twelve-year-old boys.

"You know, Sammy," Lucifer spoke up, as casually as if they were two old friends taking a walk together. "I thought you would have figured out by now that running from me isn't really all that effective. To be honest, it's really rather pointless. Angels are quick travelers, you know. I thought you would have learnt that from your little friend Castiel."

_He's not real. He's not real. He's not real._ Sam picked up the pace, shoving his hands firmly in his jacket pockets as the shape of the hotel came into view, a dark shadow in the night.

"How _is_ little Castiel, by the way? I do like to check up on my brothers."

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._

Castiel was pretty bad, to be honest. Still stuck in that hospital ward with _Meg_, of all people. It seemed even worse now, that Lucifer had somehow managed to claw his way back to him, as persistent as ever, only now coupled with a distinct anger at Cas' attempt to pull him away from Sam.

It didn't make sense. If Lucifer was a mere hallucination, then how was he still here? Now that Sam was 'fixed'? He no longer saw meat hooks or heard ghostly screams or fire or any of that, but _still_ Lucifer remained.

_He's not real. He's not._ But Sam was starting to doubt that. He knew that maybe, physically, Lucifer _wasn't_ here, but was a physical body all there was to a person? Or angel?

Gritting his teeth, Sam reached for the door handle. Half of him hoped Dean was asleep merely for convenience sake- he could have done without the demands as to why he'd been walking around for several hours and returning at four in the morning. But another part of him wanted Dean to be awake and waiting for him, better to talk to Dean than Lucifer.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sammy. Big brother's fast asleep and dreaming."

He winced at Lucifer's words, suddenly adamantly hopeful that the devil was just winding him up, but as he pushed open the door, sure enough, he found Dean sprawled in the far bed, deaf to the world.

The door clicked shut behind him as he made his way over to his own bed. Vaguely he registered that he didn't remember shutting the door, but he pointedly ignored it. Lucifer liked to take over little 'normal' actions from him sometimes, a bizarre way of carrying on this ridiculous joke on his life that the two of them were just hanging out together. As if _this_ was all _normal._

Sam dropped back onto the bed, closing his eyes. He couldn't be bothered to take off his shoes, let alone get undressed and climb under the covers. He could have slept for a week, but even an hour, _any_ sleep would do right now.

"No, no, no, Sammy." Lucifer's voice was mocking, playful. "It's not bedtime yet. No bed time for you ever again."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Despite the constantly voice in his ear, he could feel sleep overtaking him. Whatever Cas _had_ managed to do, Lucifer no longer seemed able to _keep _him awake, at least.

"Sammy. Rise and shine."

It was just a matter of will power. If he could just focus more on sleep and less on Lucifer.

"Sammy. _Sammy_."

His body was taking over now, putting itself to sleep on natural instinct.

"No, Sammy. _No_."

And hey, he'd over-powered the devil before.

Darkness.

"_**SAM.**_**"**

He woke up to the sound of glass smashing. The windows cracked and shattered, glass exploding from the front wall of the room, the lights blowing out overhead in a shower of sparks.

Instinctively, Sam threw his arms up to shield his face, seeing the shards fly towards him. But the never hit. Of course they didn't. It wasn't _real_.

Slowly, he lowered his arms, raising his head and looking around. The overhead lights were switched off and intact, the windows not so much as scratched, a dim light just creeping in between the curtains. He turned to look at the clock. It was quarter to six.

Someone kicked the end of the bed. He sighed in frustration and looked up at Lucifer with a glare.

As they'd been running out of that hotel with Kali, at Gabriel's request, he remembered hearing the archangel describe his brother as having a temper tantrum. He couldn't help but feel that was ridiculously accurate. He vaguely wondered what kind of kid Lucifer was (_were_ angels ever kids?) and pictured a bratty little Lucifer stomping around and throwing things. Now he thought about it, he couldn't really blame God for leaving...

"_What_ is your problem?" He muttered, dropping back down onto the bed and staring at the ceiling, too tired to bother putting more than a tone of vague annoyance into his voice. "Why can't you just let me sleep?"

He really didn't understand it. During the day, Lucifer was actually almost tolerable, seemingly content to just hang around in the background, though he liked to make a point of putting himself in Sam's line of vision. It was distracting, but Sam could cope with it. But at _night_, as soon as he and Dean were readying themselves for bed, all hell broke loose- metaphorically speaking, for once.

Lucifer would start off with annoying jibes, then just constant talking, anything to keep him awake. He'd developed something of a routine, staying up and doing research or taking a walk around to try to tire himself into _having_ to sleep. But that was when Lucifer became utterly unbearable; shouting, pretending to break things, tormenting him with constant reminders about everything that had happened...

"I _said_ no bed time, Sammy. Never again."

"_Why?_" He flung himself forward, eyes narrowed, very well aware he was giving Lucifer exactly what he wanted by arguing, but not caring right now. "What the hell do you have against me sleeping?"

Lucifer chose not to answer, merely staring blankly back at him.

"I know you don't think much of us humans. But, yes, we're a little inferior to you and we _have_ to sleep. It must seem very boring and silly to you, I know."

"Why yes, Sammy, what do I do without you to entertain me?"

Sam just glared. But even so, something about Lucifer's word choice struck him as odd. 'What _do_ I do...', not 'what _would_ I do...'. He spoke as if this was actually happening, as if he were actually really here and-

He pointedly ended his thoughts there, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and getting up to prepare for the day. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep, no only because of Lucifer, but Dean would likely be up within an hour anyway.

Sam sighed, stepping into the small bathroom and turning on the taps. Lucifer sauntered after him, crossing the room and leaning against the wall, one hand playing disinterestedly with the shower curtain.

After splashing cold water on his face to waken himself up, Sam turned and looked pointedly past Lucifer at the shower. "Get out," he said, refusing to look in the devil's direction.

Lucifer merely raised an eyebrow.

"I need to shower. Get out. Wait outside."

"Embarrassed are we, Sammy? I wouldn't have thought so. I only pick good looking vessels."

He was determined not to comment on that, crossing his arms tightly and adamantly staring anywhere but at Lucifer, the door pointedly open behind him. He felt utterly ridiculous doing this, but it had proven to work in the past.

Eventually Lucifer rolled his eyes and strolled past him, narrowly avoiding the door that Sam kicked shut behind him.

He wasted no time in getting undressed and stepping under the water. He wasn't stupid enough to believe this was some kind of break, like a mother escaping their whining child for an hour. No, Lucifer was right outside the door and he knew it, mainly from the now unbearable tune of 'Stairway to Heaven' that had predictably started up. If Sam couldn't see him, Lucifer would always make sure he could hear him.

Within ten minutes, he was turning the shower off and picking up one of the clean hotel towels, wrapping it around his waist and stepping back out into the hotel room, giving the door a hard shove in hopes that it would hit Lucifer in the face.

Unfortunately, it didn't, though the signing thankfully stopped.

The talking, however, quickly started again.

"Really, Sammy, most people like a bit of music in the morning. Are you saying I'm a bad singer?"

He would, of course, _never_ say it, but Lucifer's voice was actually rather good. Sam narrowed his eyes and focused on finding some clothes for the day.

"I am the angel of music, did you know that? Well, I _was_."

He hadn't known that. He made a valiant attempt to not remember it.

"I think the blue shirt, Sammy. It suits you."

Sam pointedly picked up the green one.

"Green? Alright. Hey, we match."

Sam threw it down and instead picked up one in maroon. He didn't particularly like this one, but Lucifer didn't comment on it, at least.

"Hey, what time is it?"

He almost sighed in relief as Dean rolled over to look at him, blinking wearily.

"Hey," he replied quickly, almost too quickly. "It half six."

"Half _six?_" Dean snapped. "Man, eight's more my time. What are you doing up already?"

Sam shrugged. "Woke up and thought I might as well get an early start. We still need to find out about our mystery ghost, right?

"Yeah, I suppose." Pulling an irritated face, Dean kicked the covers off and headed for the bathroom.

They were on a job, a standard haunting just outside of Texas. One heck of an angry poltergeist, but the classic salt and burn should do the trick.

"I can help," Lucifer spoke up as Dean shut the bathroom door. "That trip to the library last time was oh so much fun."

Sam finished buttoning his shirt, slipped on his shoes and walked over to the table where his laptop sat.

Lucifer began flicking through the pile of newspaper clippings they'd left out last night. "This looks suspicious, Sammy. Man falls down a flight of stairs and snaps his little neck at a dinner party. And you're poor victim with the ghostly friend was there."

Sam paused half way through typing in his search of suspicious deaths in the area.

Dean remerged from the bathroom, raising both eyebrows at him. "Hey, slow down, braniac. Let's get us some breakfast first."

Sam gave a half-smile, closing the laptop lid as Dean began getting dressed.

Lucifer had put the newspaper down. As Dean finished tying his shoes and headed toward the door, Sam reluctantly picked it up and followed, shaking the pages out as they headed towards the hotel's adjacent diner.

"You found something?" Dean asked as they stepped inside, eyeing the newspaper page over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Sam muttered, frowning in annoyance at how this looked to be exactly right. He handed Dean the newspaper as they sat down at a table in the corner. With it only being just before seven, the diner was almost empty, so they picked a larger table with space to work, too. At least that was what Sam told himself, trying to ignore how he'd unintentionally shuffled up to give Lucifer the seat beside him.

"It's alright, Sammy. I'll let you take the credit. It's nice you want to impress big brother."

Sam just sighed, looking up as the waitress came over, before ordering a very strong coffee.


	2. Long Time No Spooning

**A/N: I was gonna wait a couple more days before uploading this but the kind amount of feedbacks/favs/follows on the first chapter made me want to put it up sooner. So here you go! :)**

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter Two: Long Time No Spooning**

As much as he wanted to sleep, when the time came each night, he was filled with more dread than relief. When he finally did drift off, usually after several hours, it was wonderful, but the hours of Lucifer's anger before almost made it seem not worth it.

Dean was already passed out in the next bed, exhausted and content after they'd spent the earlier hours of the night getting rid of the remains of the poltergeist that had successfully gone up in smoke.

"Oh no, Sammy. You may have won last night, but I have a few more tricks up my sleeve."

Sam pointedly lay down, turning onto his side.

"Get _up_, Sammy."

"Why don't _you_ shut up?"

He immediately cursed himself. He could almost _feel_ Lucifer smirking at getting a response.

"Because where's the fun in that, Sammy?"

"It would let me _sleep_," he said. "That would be great fun."

"Yes." There was a sudden bitterness to Lucifer's voice. "For you."

Sam frowned, trying to work out exactly what he meant by that. "Is being without me for a few hours really that horrible for you?"

He'd meant it sarcastically, a petty insult to imply that Lucifer was dependent on him or something. He expected equal mockery in response, a bitter comment, anything but a disturbingly sincere "yes".

For a few moments, he just lay there. Eventually, Sam blinked, double and triple checked he'd heard right, and sat up. "What do you mean?"

Lucifer was stood at the end of the bed. He regarded Sam for a few moments, before replying. "You got out of the cage, Sammy. All of you. Congratulations." his voice was dry, bitter. "You're back up here with big brother and you happy little life."

Sam didn't think his life was anywhere near happy, but he chose not to comment.

"But we didn't all have loving Cas fly down to rescue us."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Why _would_ Cas rescue you? You deserve to be in here. It's _your_ cage." He paused. "You _are _in there." He looked sharply away. "You're in there and not here and I shouldn't be talking to you."

"But you are, Sammy. And I hear every word."

"You must have good hearing to be listening all the way from hell."

"Why listen from hell when I can listen from right here?" Lucifer paused, glancing vaguely around the hotel room, almost as if he were hesitating. "It's nice here, I suppose. Nicer than the cage, at least."

"But you're _not here_," Sam insisted.

"I am," Lucifer replied mildly. "Well, part of me. I told you, Sammy. You and me, M.F.E.O. We have a special little connection. And a little part of me is still with you."

"No," Sam snapped. "You and me are nothing alike. Separate. I'm not you. I became your vessel to throw you into that hole and I succeeded." He sat up straighter, pushing up until he was kneeling on the bed defiantly. "I will never let you in again. You can stick with looking like Nick, or whatever his name is, because you're not getting inside me."

"You think that's what this is about?" Lucifer asked, gazing at Sam curiously from the corner of his eye. "Oh you and me running round together and destroying this little planet is a dead idea, I've accepted that."

Sam had been about to snap back a reply, but stopped, a confused frown flitting over his face.

"All I said was that a part of me is with you, Sam. A part that allows me to follow you in some essence, to hang about up here with you and Dean."

"So, you're... You're really here?" Sam felt his voice waver, the horrific realisation that this wasn't a hallucination.

Lucifer nodded.

"Well, I don't want you here," Sam said. "Go."

The annoyance was clear on Lucifer's face. Perhaps more anger than annoyance. Or... No, Sam quickly corrected himself, the devil did not look desperate.

"Go _away_, Lucifer." He lay back down, closing his eyes and adamantly telling himself he wouldn't open them again until the sun was coming up.

Lucifer shouted his name, screamed it, made the floor shake and the windows smash all over again, but Sam kept his eyes firmly shut until it all eventually subsided and sleep claimed him with a soothing silence. Or maybe he dreamt, but he was sure the last thing he heard Lucifer say couldn't have been an almost begging cry of "_please_, Sam."

* * *

It was nearly four whole hours before Lucifer managed to awaken him with several loud bangs on the door. He'd started awake, actually moving to get out of bed to answer, before he realised that Dean was still sleeping soundly and no one in fact was standing outside their door at half-five in the morning.

He sighed, dropping back down onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, feeling at least a little most rested than previously. He made a point of ignoring Lucifer leaning over Dean ominously. They both knew he couldn't actually do anything, but Lucifer often played games like this in retaliation to Sam's rebellious acts of sleeping.

A blade went through Dean's skull. Sam noted with vague interest that it was one of the familiar silver archangel blades and wondered if Lucifer really did still have his. He was adamant about still being an angel, but many depictions gave him horns and hoofs instead of wings. Not very angelic. Then again, a lot of depictions in Bobby's vast collection of books were wrong. For a start, none of them showed any angels in trench coats.

"How's Adam?" He asked, because the guilt had been gnawing away at him for weeks and begging him to find out.

"Fine," Lucifer replied vaguely, apparently disappointed at Sam's lack of reaction as the blade disappeared with a wave of his hand. He moved away from Dean's bed. "Well, for the situation he's in, at least. Michael's seems to appreciate him having said yes, so he just leaves him alone mostly."

"What _does_ Michael do down there?" He imagined the chief archangel must be pretty pissed off. "Do you guys talk?"

Lucifer didn't answer.

"It must be a little nice, I suppose," Sam continued offhandedly. "Being with your brother, at least."

"It's not nice, Sam. It's hell."

"It's _your _hell."

"Hell isn't mine. I created demons, not hell."

Sam couldn't help the surprise that crossed his face. That concept had never occurred to him before, though he supposed it did make more sense. Where else would Lucifer have been cast down to?

"But it's kind of... Home, right?"

For the briefest moment, Lucifer looked as if he'd been slapped, but it was quickly covered by a sneer. "My home... I was thrown out of my home. Hell is just hell. Even for the devil."

Sam had never considered that either. He tried his best not to think of his brief time in the pit, but sometimes brief memories did crop up. None of them were concrete, however, most just vague recollections of flashes and smells and screaming. From all around, far away in every corner of the pit outside the cage, but inside, too. Adam had been curled up in a corner, wide-eyed but silent. He had more _felt_ Michael than seen him; this great, over-powering light. And still the screaming, not Michael, not Adam. He had screamed and screamed, but someone else had, too.

For a few moments, his gaze strayed to Lucifer who was half-heartedly staring back.

_No,_ Sam told himself abruptly looking away. He had to stop this. He was doing it again, interacting just like Lucifer wanted. If he ignored him, he'd go away. _Go away to where?_ Sam wondered, before cutting that thought off as well. Sympathy for the devil was never a good idea.

* * *

With the last job wrapped up, they moved on again, climbing into the Impala just after nine that morning as Dean had got up for breakfast irritatingly late, much to Sam's dismay.

Lucifer usually disappeared while they travelled, cropping up at the gas stations or diners when they stopped. Sam vaguely remembered Cas mentioning something about the devil not thinking much of automobiles. But as Sam and Dean stepped out of the hotel, Lucifer remained with them.

"Gonna make me ride in the back, Sammy? Or do you think Dean'd let me drive?"

Sam briefly struggled not to react to that, unable to help but be amused at the idea of Dean allowing anyone, let alone the devil, to drive his precious 'baby'. Biting his bottom lip, Sam climbed into the passenger seat, continuing to make a point of not reacting as Lucifer actually did take the seat behind him.

They drove along for a while, during which Lucifer stayed, even singing along to the radio on several occasions without any apparent attempt to annoy Sam. He merely seemed to _enjoy _it. Sam wondered if singing reminded him of Heaven. At one point one of Dean's favourites, AC/DC's 'Long Way To The Top' came on and his brother unknowingly had quite a good duet with the devil going for a while. Sam almost applauded at the end.

They stopped around lunchtime at a diner, taking a newspaper from the stand by the door to search for any possible jobs.

"Got anything, Sammy?" Dean asked, mouth full with the diner's 'special' which involved copious amounts of beef and bacon.

"Not really. One murder, but they've got fingerprints and a bloodied knife so sounds like that one's the cops problem."

Dean pulled a disappointed face and took another bite.

"Maybe we should go see if Garth has anything for us?" Sam suggested, poking at his own chicken caesar wrap, ignoring the way Lucifer was gazing curiously at Dean's burger.

"Is there actually any meat in that?" Lucifer said. "All I can make out is rather disgusting amounts of grease and some kind of meat-flavoured mince."

Sam thought it best not to repeat this information to Dean.

"Alright, sounds like a plan," Dean replied. "To Garth it is then. Watch out for his hugs though."

As Dean finished up his meal, Sam placed the remainder of his aside, slightly wary of Lucifer informing him of what it really contained. Sometimes he thought that they'd more likely die from the dodgy various meals they consumed while traveling, than from anything they encountered on a hunt.

* * *

Lucifer seemed utterly baffled by Garth's house-boat, Sam couldn't help but note, as they knocked on the door. Garth greeted them with his usual enthusiasm, grabbing hold of Dean and then Sam and squeezing tightly.

"Oh, no hug for me?" Lucifer said, sounding far more amused than disappointed.

They headed inside and Garth showed them to a cramped room they could share, two rickety beds side-by-side. As soon as he left, Dean commented that he was now wishing they'd chosen a nearby hotel instead.

"Hey, it saves on money, at least," Sam replied, throwing his bag down.

"Oh do be honest now, Sammy. That bed looks about to fall apart. It shouldn't matter though, you won't be using it much. Or at all, in fact."

Sam ignored him, instead focusing on Dean who was already looking through a stack of papers on the Leviathans Garth had given them.

"That guy has worse handwriting than a doctor," Dean muttered, one leg crossed over the other as he stretched out on the bed. "I'm gonna go through this then hit the hay."

"Yeah, sounds good," Sam replied, sitting down on his own bed and making a point of not looking at Lucifer who was shaking his head.

"Why are you even bothering? Sleep is rather inefficient, you know. Imagine how much more work you could get done if you had all twenty-four hours of the day to use."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

"Don't you get bored of it? You know, having to plan everything around all this eating and sleeping stuff?"

Sam buried his head in the pillow.

"You know it's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you, Sam."

"And it's rude to talk to someone who's trying to sleep," Sam spat back, raising his head.

Lucifer merely raised his eyebrows. "Just keeping you up and alert, Sammy. Can't have you dozing off there."

"_Why?_ For someone trapped in a cage in hell, I would think my sleeping habits would be the least of your concerns."

Lucifer paused briefly, staring out the window at the gently rocking sea of the dock they were harboured in. "On the contrary, it is of my utmost concern."

Saw frowned, turning over and sitting up. "Why? What's so bad for you about me sleeping?"

Lucifer's gaze slid over to him. "I thought you were supposed to be the clever one, Sammy. Dean's always calling you a nerd, isn't he?"

Sam ignored the jibe and waited for Lucifer to continue.

"I've told you," the devil said. "I'm in the cage- technically. But I can also be here with you thanks to that little bit of bond we share. Now look at that little set of options, Sammy. The cage? Or here? Which would you rather chose?"

Sam didn't reply, not that he really needed to. It was obvious. The cage, or here? The cage or _anywhere?_ There was no contest.

"Okay, fine, you can stalk me instead of wallowing down there, but what's that have to do with me sleeping? Or _not_ sleeping, as you're so adamant about?"

"_Think, _Sammy," Lucifer insisted, sounding very much as if he were talking to a particularly slow child. "That little piece of me that's not in the cage. It's with you. It _relies_ on you. You've seen it before with ghosts that make an effort to make themselves known. They're nothing without someone to see them or hear them."

A look of realisation dawned on Sam's face. "You need me to acknowledge you, or you can't be here."

Lucifer half-heartedly threw out his arms in mock celebration. "The boy's got it." He turned on his heel and wandered over to the window, his back to Sam.

"So," Sam continued, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his arms on his knees. "If I go to sleep, and I'm not aware of you anymore, you get popped back downstairs."

"Simply put, yes."

"And what do you do when that happens?"

"I do everything I can to get your attention back again. I'm still somewhat inside your head, but it's more like talking to you over the phone than being here."

"I see."

Silence reigned for a few moments, before Lucifer spoke up again. "So there we go, my heartfelt confession. I'm not expecting you to feel sorry for me, you know. Just letting you know the stakes."

Sam knew there was utterly no obligation for him to feel sorry for Lucifer, in fact, he had a whole list of valid reasons to utterly despise him. But Sam, much to Dean's annoyance at times, was a sympathetic person and wouldn't wish hell on anyone. Even his worst enemy. Even the devil. And he could be as cold as he liked, but Lucifer would only go back to continuing to yell and smash around.

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Sam said.

"Not unless a better option appears. And the cage is hardly a better option."

"I _have_ to sleep, you know."

"And I have to get you to keep acknowledging me."

Sam stared at him for a few moments, before sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"I was good today," Lucifer pointed out. "And I can be helpful. There's worse company you could have."

"Worse company than the devil?" Sam muttered.

"Oh I could be awful for anyone else. But I've said before, you're special to me, Sam."

"I can't say the feeling is mutual." He looked up at Lucifer. "I can tolerate you hanging about. But I mean it, sleep is kind of necessary."

Lucifer walked round to the side of the bed, hands casually linked in front of him. "You go to sleep, I'll wake you up again."

Sam grit his teeth. "Look, I'm not doing this just because I want to throw you back into hell. I _need_ to sleep."

Lucifer merely stared at him.

"Don't you sleep? I know you don't need to, but can't angels sleep if they want to?"

Lucifer shrugged vaguely. "In a way. Sleeping in the cage is rather impossible though. You know, with all the fire and torture and that."

"Fine then. Fine." It was either frustration, sheer exhaustion, or merely a last resort, but Sam shuffled over to the edge of the thin bed, before reaching out and grabbing a handful of Lucifer's dark green shirt. He tugged the devil down beside him, Lucifer actually stumbling down in shock and letting Sam pull them both onto the mattress.

"If you're trying to attack me, I have to tell you I can still outdo you, Sammy."

"I'm not attacking you, dammnit. I'm trying to get to sleep. Now lie down."

With Sam half pushing him, Lucifer obeyed, with a dubious look of surprise as Sam actually shuffled up behind him. "The 'long time no spooning' thing was a joke, Sam."

"You want acknowledgement, fine. Here it is." He threw an arm over Lucifer's waist. "You are being utterly acknowledged. But at the same time, I am going to _sleep_."

"Sam-"

"Go to sleep, Lucifer."


	3. I've Got You, Bunk Buddy

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter Three: I've Got You, Bunk Buddy**

If it hadn't been for the fact that lately he didn't usually sleep long enough to dream, he would have been convinced he'd dreamt it. Even so, all evidence pointed to the contrary when he opened his eyes to find sunlight streaming in through the small window, the clock displaying 8.12AM in glowing figures, and that to even see the clock he'd had to look over the top of the head of dark blonde hair beside him.

"Hey," Dean's voice called out, jolting him fully into awareness as he leant up on one elbow to find his older brother sat on the edge of the opposite bed. "As nice as it is to see you sleeping in for once, Garth's made us breakfast." Dean shrugged into an over shirt and stood up. "So rise and shine, Sammy. I smell bacon!"

Sam laughed half-heartedly as Dean quickly left the room, following after the greasy scent wafting up the stairs.

An awkward silence descended in Dean's absence and he turned back to the bed, uncertain over what to do next, only to find the space beside him empty. The mystery didn't last long however, as he spied movement at the end of the small room and raised his head to find Lucifer standing there watching him.

"...hi," he said awkwardly, then immediately regretted it. Well, what the hell was he supposed to say? Was there a protocol for the night after spooning with the devil?

Lucifer seemed amused by his awkwardness and smirked. "Morning, bunk buddy."

"...Don't call me that." He looked to the clock once more, counting back the hours and marveling at the fact that he'd actually gotten a solid eight hours of sleep. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt this refreshed.

Pushing himself up from the bed, he walked over to his case and began pulling out clothes for the day.

Lucifer stayed where he was, leaning casually against the wall.

Ten minutes later and Sam was dressed and ready, Garth bellowing up the stairs at him to come down before Dean ate all the bacon. Sam smiled and headed for the door. He was at the top of the stairs when he could have sworn he heard Lucifer call out a thank you.

* * *

After finding no immediate cases that needed their attention, it was decided that the day would be devoted to research on the Leviathans.

Dean sat on the sofa with a mass of papers spread out on the coffee table, while Sam occupied the rickety wooden chair by the main desk. Garth had gone out on apparently one of his own cases to help another hunter 'garth' a vampire about thirty miles away. Lucifer paced the room, occasionally leaning over Sam shoulder to look at the laptop screen.

"Hey Sammy," Dean called out suddenly, making his younger brother turn round to face him.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"I just..." Dean hesitated briefly, before speaking again. "Just wanted to say I was glad you got a good sleep last night. I was getting a little worried, you know. I know things haven't been easy."

Sam tried to smile. "When are they ever?"

"True. But... You're okay, right? No more... Issues?"

"No." He glanced briefly over at Lucifer who was looking between the two of them with interest. "I think I've figured out how to managed them."

Dean nodded. "Awesome. Anyway, think Garth's got any decent booze in?"

"You already ate all his bacon."

Dean stopped to give him a mild glare on his way through to the small kitchen. "Hey, bacon is good, man. It's a crime to let it go to waste."

Sam shook his head as Dean began going through the fridge, blinking in surprise as a sheet of paper, depicting the exact information on the ingredients of Borax that he'd been looking for, was waved in front of his face. He nodded vaguely at Lucifer in thanks.

"Man, not even any beer!" Dean declared, slamming the fridge door shut. "I'm going on a supply run. Want anything, Sammy?"

"Er, protein bars."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You do eat some weird crap, Sammy." With that as a parting comment, he snatched up the keys to the Impala and left.

"Your brother's not the best with manners, is he?" Lucifer said.

Sam shrugged mildly. "He's only messing around. He says it's the big brother's job."

"What's the little brother's job?"

"To send insults right back. He calls me a bitch, I call him a jerk."

Lucifer fell silent and Sam suddenly felt rather uncomfortable, and not only just because he'd incidentally ended up in another conversation with the devil. But in the brief time he'd been Lucifer's vessel, one of the most uncomfortable things was feeling Lucifer get right inside his head, going through all his thoughts and memories. He'd felt utterly violated. He didn't want Lucifer knowing all these little personal things, even something as trivial as the kind of banter he had with his brother. But on the other hand, he'd found himself getting brief glimpses in the other direction, nowhere near as vivid as what Lucifer was getting from him, but just the occasional, fractured look. He could still recall odd bits. It was mostly bright, white light and babbling in a language he didn't understand, but there were brief, more solid images. And one name that kept coming up amidst a whirlwind of emotions: Michael, Michael, _Michael_.

"Could Michael come up here too? Like through Dean or something?"

Lucifer turned sharply round to face him at the abrupt question, an uncharacteristic tension coming over him. "And what makes you ask that?"

Sam shrugged. "Just wondering. I thought you'd want to see him still. I mean, I know hell is... Hell, but your brother is still down there."

Lucifer was silent for a few moments, before replying mildly. "He gets angry when I leave through you. He says it's cheating my punishment."

"What punishment? It was me that threw us all down there."

Lucifer dropped mildly down into a nearby chair, sitting sideways. "The same punishment as before. I betrayed our father, heaven... Him."

"He still hasn't let that go? I mean..." Sam suddenly realised how weird this conversation was, but continued nonetheless. "I'm not saying anything you've done is right, but things have changed, right? Moved on. The apocalypse just isn't happening either way."

"Michael doesn't let things go easily. He still wants our great, fated battle to go down. Anything to prove what a _good son_ he is." There was an undeniable bitterness in his tone.

"Dean used to be kind of like that. But-" He broke off. Was he seriously having a heart-to-heart with the devil? God, just when he thought his life couldn't get any more messed up.

Lucifer didn't question his sudden silence, watching as Sam stood up and walked through to the kitchen.

He needed coffee. Strong, black coffee would do to keep him alert. At least alert enough to realise when he was descending into the deep end of crazy.

_No more_, he told himself. _He can stay... I suppose. He just wants to keep away from the cage. Okay. But no more conversations. You're acting like his friend or something_.

With that resolution in mind, Sam vowed to stay in control from now on, emptying coffee powder into two mugs as he waited for the kettle to boil.

He'd put in water and sugar and brought both mugs to the table without even realising.

Lucifer, on the other hand, was fully aware of Sam's little slip up and beamed as he reached across the table to take on. "Thank you very much, Sammy."

Sam jumped as if snapping out of a trance, looking at the mug now in Lucifer's hand, then at his own, before a realising look of despair came over him. He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands with a grudging acceptance that he was truly loosing it.

"Oh don't look so down, Sammy. You should be proud your manners are so much better than your brother's."

Sam glared mildly down at the tabletop.

* * *

"How do you think Cas is doing?" Dean asked suddenly, making Sam look up from the news article he had open on the computer screen.

He shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. I feel kind of bad, you know, seeing as it's my crazy he's taken on."

"Hey, it had to be. Well, I suppose. You know, I wouldn't wish it on Cas anymore than I wished it on you. Though to be fair, it was kind of Cas' fault in the first place."

"He wasn't really himself at the time though."

Dean looked up at him curiously. "It's good of you, you know. That you don't blame him or anything."

Sam shrugged again. "We always seem to end up in messes one way or another, Dean. I don't really think there's much point blaming anyone for anything."

Dean raised an eyebrow at that. "No one? What, not even Azazel?"

Sam frowned, but shook his head. "I'm not saying anything anyone's done to us is right, but... Well, people- or demons- they've all got their reasons, Dean. It's messed up, but you got to think, they really think they're right in what they're doing. It's just... Conflicting beliefs, I guess, that separate us."

Dean seemed to consider this, before pulling a face. "You're too noble, Sammy. Next you'll be telling me Lucifer was just misunderstood."

Unwittingly, Sam's gaze slid over to the devil sat in the corner. "I wouldn't say that. But still, what he did he had his own reasons for. Again, everyone's got their beliefs, Dean."

"Noble indeed, Sammy," Lucifer said.

Sam bit his bottom lip, quickly trying to move the conversation on. "I know you're worried about Cas, Dean. You're a good friend to him."

Dean shrugged vaguely. "Well he's, you know, one of us, right? Like Bobby always said: family don't end with blood."

Sam gave a small smile at the memory. "Even so, you and Cas are close. You should go and see him if you're that worried."

Dean looked up in surprise. "What? No, as much as I do worry about the guy, we've got more important matters to deal with. Besides, a job's about the crop up sooner or later."

"Nothing that can't wait," Sam insisted. "Actually, I just came across a possible case." He gestured to the computer screen. "It's not too far from here, but only looks like a simple Wraith. I can handle it."

"Hey, I'm not letting you go off alone."

Sam gave him a light glare. "Dean, I'm a big boy. I can handle it. Besides, I wanna know how Cas is doing, too. You go see him."

"But-"

"No buts, Dean. Go."

For a few moments, Dean seemed inclined to argue further, before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Yeah, alright. But I'll be phoning to check up on you."

"Alright. But honestly, don't worry. It's not like this is my first hunt or anything."

Dean smiled. "Yeah, I suppose."

Sam nodded. "Great. Guess we'll have to say bye to Garth. I'll check into a hotel closer to the hunt. You come join me whenever you're done with Cas."

"Fine. But I'm taking the Impala."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "As if I even thought for a minute you wouldn't."

As Dean climbed the stairs to go pack, Sam sighed and began taking down notes on the possible case.

"Well, well, Sammy," Lucifer spoke up, almost making Sam jump as he had briefly forgotten the devil's presence. "A little trip together, just you and me. Anyone would think you just wanted to get me alone."

* * *

After bidding (and unwillingly hugging) Garth goodbye, the two brothers set off in opposite directions.

Unlike the mass supply at Singer's Autos, Garth didn't have any spare vehicles they could borrow, so Sam was forced to trek into the City and pick the lock on a slightly battered old Sedan that he hoped wouldn't be missed too much.

Lucifer took the passenger seat beside him, leaning back and giving Sam a coy smile that was at least attempted to be ignored.

They'd waited until morning to leave, so Sam had spent another night in the rickety bed at Garth's, a good nine hours of sleep with Lucifer beside him. And not that he'd ever admit it, but he'd just lain there for a good ten minutes after waking, feeling the bizarre aura of cool air that seemed to radiate from the devil. He'd noticed a strange scent, too; ash, like that of a fire just burnt out, and what he'd eventually concluded smelt like fresh-cut grass. The ashy smell he understood, but grass and that strange sense of pure nature, he couldn't help but wonder if that was what heaven smelt like- in the literal sense.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a sudden blare of sports commentary. It crackled then changed to a weather report, then a pop song, before Sam realised Lucifer was fiddling with the radio.

"What is _that?_" The devil asked with a surprising sense of disturbance as the tune of 'Oppa Gangnam Style' blasted from the speakers.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle as he turned the car round a corner. "It's the latest big hit. Top of the charts."

"You creatures call _that_ music?"

"Apparently so."

Lucifer looked wholeheartedly offended, quickly changing the radio to another channel. "I got better sounds than that out of fledgling choir angels learning their first notes."

Sam was briefly entertained by the mental image of a load of mini angels in flowing white robes performing Gangnam Style. "So do all angels have, like, roles?"

"Essentially," Lucifer replied, having finally found an acceptable station playing a Def Leppard track. "Everyone's given a job, though only a few have head roles." There was a distinct note of pride in his voice.

"Do you know what job Cas has? Or had, at least."

"I've heard he's the angel of Thursdays. Besides that, I suppose he's just a general soldier."

"What other jobs are there?"

"There's hundreds. Heaven has to have a system to function," he said mildly. "Just like you humans and your petty little jobs in banking and politics."

Ignoring the jibe at his race, Sam continued. "What were the jobs of the other archangels?"

"As you probably know, Gabriel is the messenger. Raphael is the angel of healing. And Michael..." He hesitated briefly. Sam couldn't help but note that Lucifer seemed consistently uncomfortable talking about his older brother. "Michael is God's head warrior. The protector, leader of heaven's armies, you get the idea."

Sam distinctly remembered Dean recently referring to himself as a warrior. He also noticed that Lucifer referred to all his brothers and their roles in the present tense, despite the current state of things.

"Do you ever regret it?" Sam asked, the curiosity getting the better of him. "Falling?"

Lucifer merely stared out of the windscreen, declining to answer. "Do you ever regret what you've become, Sam?" He asked instead. "You could have lived a normal life- college boy with a career in law, yet you've become a hunter despite it all. Certain roles are just made for us, I suppose."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Why is it all Dean seems to do in this fic is eat and talk about food? :| Yes, there was also implied Destiel in this chapter, but hey, there's also implied Destiel in the show :P**

**I do, in fact, imagine Lucifer would dislike Gangnam Style. Maybe Dean should have played that instead when he interrupted the apocalypse...**

**Anyway, I hope this managed to stay somewhat in character. Yes, Sam does keep ending up in conversations with Lucifer rather a lot, but Lucifer is very cunning, you know! Comments/thoughts/criticism welcome! :)**


	4. Real Interaction

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 4: Real Interaction**

"Sammy. Sam. _Sammy._"

He jolted awake with a groan, eyes narrowing as he fumbled into consciousness. "You said you wouldn't keep waking me up anymore," he snapped, shoving away from Lucifer on the mattress.

Lucifer merely rolled his eyes, half in amusement and half in exasperation. "Oh I keep my promises, Sammy. But your _phone_ is ringing."

Sam blinked, only then taking in the persistent buzzing in the background. "...Oh." He reached over to the bedside table, catching it on what must have been the last ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sammy," Dean's voice came through the line. "Just checking up on you. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Er, how's Cas?"

"He's... Well he seems happy enough at least. You know, still not really himself."

Sam sighed. "Right. That's as good as we can expect, I guess."

"Anyway, how's the hunt going? What have you found out?"

"It's early morning, Dean. Give me a chance."

"It's half ten, Sam."

Sam blinked, snapping his head round to look at the clock. To his horror, it was actually closer to quarter to eleven. "Oh."

"Don't tell me you're still in bed?" Dean's incredulous voice said.

"_No_," Sam denied quickly. "Of course not. Just... A long queue for breakfast, that's all. Got me a bit behind on things."

Dean either brought the explanation or wasn't that bothered. "Alright then. Just be careful, okay?"

"Sure. Call you later." He hung up the phone with a sigh, tossing it back onto the bedside table. Dropping back onto the mattress, he slowly let his gaze slide over to Lucifer who was casually lying on his side, head resting on one hand.

"That's okay, Sammy, I forgive you."

Sam sighed again, turning to stare up at the ceiling. "Sorry." He paused briefly, glancing over at the clock again. "You know what, if it's past ten, you actually can wake me."

* * *

"Why do you never sit normally?"

It was something he had abruptly noticed at some point, the way Lucifer would perch on the back of chairs or sit sideways or on other furniture. After having breakfast, he'd returned to the hotel room with Lucifer in tow to begin research, and watched as the devil sat awkwardly on the arm of a nearby armchair, his legs up on the seat.

He received a languid smile in response. "Habit, I suppose. I'm used to accommodating my wings."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "So your wings, they... They were removed?"

"_No_," Lucifer said quickly, looking rather uncomfortable and offended at the thought. "I've seen some of your kind's ridiculous depictions and presumptions of me. But no angel would cut another's wings off, same as you wouldn't chop another human's limbs."

"So they're still there?"

"Of course, Sammy. Hasn't Castiel explained all this? They're there, just not usually perceptible in this realm. Think of them as the same type of fabric spirits are made up of."

Sam nodded. "Guess that makes sense. Your true forms are rather... Blinding, Cas said."

"Quite literally," Lucifer agreed cheerfully. "But I can tone them down a bit."

Sam swallowed, not missing the implication there. He suddenly felt embarrassed that Lucifer had picked up on his obvious curiosity. He shifted uncomfortably without replying, attempting to focus on the papers in front of him.

A blinding light made the words on the page briefly flash out of focus. Sam winced, suddenly feeling as if he were staring right into the sun just looking down at the page, but the light quickly dimmed to a soft, golden hue. Sam raised his head and blinked blearily.

Strangely, the first thing he focused on was Lucifer's face. He was smirking, naturally, because obviously he knew this was damn impressive. And it really _was_, Sam had to admit. His wings were long and pale, pointed upwards to show them off to their full glory, the ends nearly touching opposite walls of the narrow hotel room. They weren't pure white, as Sam tended to presume with angels, but a sort of soft blonde, a little lighter than the hair of his vessel.

"Erm... Wow," Sam blurted, eyes wide. "I kinda presumed they'd be... Burnt or... Webbed or something."

Lucifer chuckled softly. "No. Hell did not physically harm your Castiel, nor has it harmed me. Angels are stronger, archangels even stronger. Besides, I do value my looks."

"Isn't vanity a sin?" Sam half-joked, looking awkwardly back down at the papers in front of him.

Lucifer smirked, turning his head slightly to regard Sam out the corner of his eyes. "Well if that's another reason I was cast down, blame God for it. He told me I was his most beautiful."

Sam looked up curiously at that. It was slightly overwhelming to think that Lucifer was really talking about a true conversation _with God_, but he supposed that once upon a time such things had happened. Conversations, compliments, arguments- a father and son.

"Anna- another angel- told us once that only four angels have ever seen God's face."

Lucifer nodded. "Obvious, isn't it?" His wings drooped softly to hang down naturally behind him. "His four eldest angels. Michael, myself, Raphael, and Gabriel."

Realisation dawned on Sam's face as he realised that did indeed make sense. 'What is he like', he suddenly wanted to ask, but stopped himself. Somehow asking questions about _God_ just didn't seem right. He felt unworthy somehow.

But still curious. "I've heard he loved you best," he said softly.

"Supposedly," Lucifer muttered, turning his head to gaze vaguely out the window. "Did you know not all angels glow with the same intensity? But I was the brightest."

"I've heard some things about you like that. 'Light-bringer', 'Morningstar', those kind of names."

Lucifer smiled mildly. "I prefer them to others- Satan, for example."

"I've heard other angels call you Luci," Sam said, a vaguely teasing note to his voice.

Surprisingly, Lucifer's smile widened. "You humans and your silly gender notions. My brothers have always called me Luci."

Sam shook his head in amusement, glancing up at the clock. "Right. Well, I need to get on with this case. So be quiet, _Luci_."

* * *

Several long hours and one dead Wraith later, Sam stumbled tiredly back into the hotel room, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

"Well, she certainly gave you the run around," Lucifer commented, pushing the door shut behind them.

Sam just groaned in response, throwing the bloodied silver knife onto the coffee table and collapsing down into the arm chair. He let his eyes fall closed, intending just to rest for a moment.

"Sam. Sammy?"

It had been a long chase and the Wraith had managed to give him a hard shove aside at one point, which had bashed his head on the hard floor. It was already two in the morning and Sam felt unbearably drowsy.

"_Sammy_."

He really had only meant to sit down for a few moments, but when he drowsily blinked back into consciousness, the sky was already lightening outside. He frowned, briefly confused as to what he was doing sat here, before realising he must have dozed off.

"Damn," Sam muttered, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it. He felt uncomfortable from having slept sitting up, but something else was nagging at him. Was there something he was supposed to have done? He was sure he was forgetting something.

Sighing, he stood up, walking over to the window and pushing the grimy motel curtains properly open. The sun was just coming up, filling the dawn sky with a soft light...

Light? "Lucifer."

He spun around, scanning the hotel room but finding it empty. He was alone, utterly alone, and Lucifer was...

Guilt gripped at him, which he found slightly eccentric, but he ignored it for now, moving across the room to peer into the bathroom. Empty. He checked outside, but the world was still at the early hour.

"_Lucifer_."

There was a faint flapping sound from behind him. He spun round, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he found the devil stood behind him, looking a little put out.

"You-"

"Were back in the cage, yes."

Sam frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm sorry. I must have-"

"Fallen asleep, yes." Lucifer wouldn't look at him. "I behaved for you. I tried, Sammy. I don't try for just anyone."

"Didn't you try to wake me?"

"Obviously," Lucifer ground out. "But you were rather out of it, so my connection with you was weak." He paused briefly. "Michael was rather angry with me."

Sam shifted awkwardly.

"And I was rather angry with you." His tone had become cold, nothing like the light-hearted banter they'd shared before. "I took it out on your half-brother."

Sam's head snapped up. "What? You hurt Adam?"

Lucifer merely nodded, a little too casually for Sam's liking.

"What did you do that for?" Sam demanded. "He hasn't done anything. He doesn't even deserve to be down there."

"No one deserves to be down there," Lucifer snapped back. "But sometimes that seems to happen because you feel like a little nap."

"I didn't _mean _to. I told you." Sam gritted his teeth, hands clenched into fists. "So you took out your revenge on Adam?"

Lucifer shrugged.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You _are_ the devil. Master of lies, right? All your silly little friendly acts."

Lucifer looked up at him at that. "I told you before, Sam, I will never lie to you. That's why I'm telling you honestly now what I did to your brother."

Sam's eyes narrowed, but the anger he felt was bizarrely dulled. He felt more betrayed than anything...

Then again, he'd promised Lucifer he could stay. Lucifer probably felt betrayed, too.

"Lucifer, I care about Adam. You can't hurt the people I care about."

Lucifer folded his arms. "I was angry," he said simply.

He had to admit that Lucifer was at least being honest. Sam sighed and decided he could at least give him the same courtesy. "I am sorry I fell asleep. But I'm angry at _you_, that you would hurt my brother."

"The devil hurts people, Sam. That's just how it is."

"You said you'd never hurt me. Not really."

"I haven't, have I? I've never let actual harm come to you."

"Hurting my brother hurts me. What the hell possessed you?"

Lucifer shrugged mildly. "Anger, like I said. I was angry at you. I wouldn't hurt you, Sam. But I don't particularly care for anyone else of your kind."

Sam sighed. "Don't think that makes me feel special."

Lucifer chose not to reply, linking his hands behind his back, staring blandly out the window at the slowly lightening sky.

"Don't do it again," Sam said. "Promise you won't hurt my brother. Either of them, if the opportunity ever arose. Promise you won't hurt anyone I care about."

"What's in it for me? Don't think I do things out the kindness of my heart."

"I wouldn't believe that for a moment," Sam said. "But you know all too well what's in it for you. I'll let you stay."

Lucifer slowly turned to face him. "You said that before."

"Actually I didn't," Sam said. "I vaguely agreed to tolerate your presence, if I recall. And I only really agreed to that because I kind of desperately needed to go to sleep. But..." He paused, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "I mean it now. You can stay, if you promise to leave others alone."

Lucifer seemed to consider this. "Well, if I'm here, everyone else is kind of irrelevant."

"Do I take that as an agreement?"

Slowly, Lucifer dragged his gaze round to meet Sam's eyes. "I suppose."

* * *

When he went to bed that night, he tried to tell himself it seemed so much more comfortable because he wasn't sleeping stiffly in a chair, and not because Lucifer was back beside him.

He'd been meaning to ring Dean for the past two hours, but after collapsing on top of the covers with Lucifer to his right, he somehow couldn't find the energy.

"Won't big brother be worried?" Lucifer spoke up as if having read his thoughts. Sam _hoped_ that wasn't possible.

He shrugged. "Dean's always fussing. I'll ring him in the morning. It's late anyway." He sighed, tugging the covers out from underneath and pulling them messily up around his waist and Lucifer's. "I'm going to sleep." He shuffled closer slightly to ensure he wouldn't fall asleep without the necessary contact to keep Lucifer here with him. They usually slept with Lucifer's back against his chest, but the devil had already been lying facing him, so Sam merely closed the space between them until Lucifer's head was basically on his shoulder. It was close enough, but even so, Sam draped an arm over Lucifer's waist, just to be sure.

* * *

**A/N:**

**And that's Sam's resilience gone! I'm hoping this chapter was fairly in character. I wanted to add in a bit of Lucifer being naughty because, well, he's Lucifer and should never really be made out to a totally innocent party, right? So I hope that worked, but poor Adam :(**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, any comments are very much appreciated ^_^**


	5. I'll Be Good

**A/N: Another update cause I love you all. I mean to post this last time, but totally forgot, but I made a little video/trailer thing to go with this story. There's a link on my profile page if you'd care to take a look, though don't expect anything amazing cause I'm really not that great a video editor. Anyway, here's another chapter and thank you so much for all the lovely feedback so far :)**

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 5: I'll Be Good**

"Hey, Dean. Yeah, case is all wrapped up... No, it was fine. Went without a hitch... I'm still at the hotel, but hey, I think I got our next case already if you're coming."

"Of course I'm coming," came Dean's indignant reply. "I skipped one job and that's more than enough. Besides, Meg's got control of the Cas situation. Well, as much as I'm comfortable with letting a demon have control."

"He'll be fine," Sam assured. "Anyway, get a bit of paper I'll give you the hotel address." He read it off the small hotel card, before hanging up with Dean's assurance that he'd be there in a few hours.

"So what _is_ the next case?" Lucifer asked, perched just beside Sam's arm on the tabletop he was sat at.

"Vampire in Colorado. Looks like there might be a whole nest of them." He pointed the end of his pen towards a newspaper headline detailing a series of 'bloody, violent attacks on young males in the area'.

"Such delightful creatures," Lucifer commented dryly. "Worse than you humans with murder."

Sam gave him a curious look. "And you've never harmed a soul," he drawled.

"I've only ever killed when necessary," Lucifer insisted. "Murder wasn't even really a concept that existed until you humans came along."

"But animals have always killed each other."

"For food, maybe. That's not murder, really. You humans just slaughter one another for ridiculous reasons. Sometimes no reason at all. Look at all your so called wars."

Sam had to admit he had a point. "You killed all those gods."

"Like I said, I had reasons. And to be fair, they were trying to kill me, too."

Sam rolled his eyes. He didn't really think Lucifer's bloodshed had been at all necessary, but he knew there was no point arguing.

"Anyway, are you gonna help me with this research or not?"

* * *

By the time Dean arrived, they had worked out the pattern of murders, detailing an specific age span, gender and pattern of upper class kills.

"Our vamp's got a taste for the wealthy," Sam explained to Dean once his brother had settled in. "Some of them do like to go for a specific target, which makes them easier to track for us."

"A vamp leaving clues, sounds good to me," Dean said. "Looks like we better head out that way then."

"Alright."

Sam gathered his small amount of luggage and loaded it into the Impala before climbing into the passenger seat as two sets of doors closed to his left and behind him.

"How much damn time do you spend in this thing?" Lucifer said, leaning on the back of Sam's seat.

"A lot," Sam replied. Of course, Dean immediately looked at him with confusion. "Er..."

"Who are you talking to?"

"No one," Sam said quickly. "Sorry, just thinking out loud."

"...Okay," Dean said slowly. "So, a lot of what?"

Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, purposefully looking down at the research papers he still held. "Vampires," he began awkwardly. "I reckon. It looks like a large nest."

"Better keep our blades sharp then," Dean said as he started the engine.

They drove with little but the sound of the radio for a while. Lucifer seemed to appreciate Dean's music taste, at least, listening contently as they sped down the quiet country roads of America.

Several hours of driving later, they arrived late afternoon, checking into a hotel room on the ground floor.

"So, not been too bored without me?" Dean asked, flopping down onto his usual bed on the left hand side.

"I can survive a couple of days without you, Dean."

Dean laughed softly. "Aw, but I thought you might be lonely, Sammy. Unless you had company?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Despite himself, Sam blushed, quickly shaking his head. "I've been _working_, Dean."

"I know," Dean insisted casually. "But nothing wrong with a little downtime."

Sam rolled his eyes but refrained from answering, sitting down on the edge of his own bed beside Lucifer, who looked far too amused.

* * *

"Sam, you look like you're about to fall off the edge of the bed."

Sam opened his eyes from where he'd been just about to drift off, leaning up on one elbow to look at his brother. "What?"

"You," Dean said, lying on his side and facing Sam. "Why are you sleeping right on the edge like that?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't seem to find the words, babbling incoherently for a few moments. "Er, I... This part of the bed's the most comfy," he said with an awkward smile and shrug.

Dean frowned, pulling a face. "Right, if you say so." He shifted down the bed slightly and closed his eyes. "Anyway, let's get to sleep, we got some vamp hunting to do once we find that nest."

"Sure," Sam replied, lying back down. "Night."

They'd spent the rest of the day since arriving on research and following up a few leads, but with little success they'd decided to quit for the night and pick up the hunt in the morning. Sam was grateful, to be honest, after the long day of driving and doing their usual fake-badge routine around several police and coroner's office, he was happy to get to bed instead of chasing after vampires through the night.

Yes, that was the reason. He was _tired_. That was all. Totally ignoring that Sam had never been the kind of person particularly effected by late nights...

He sighed, shifting onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

"You okay there, bunk buddy?"

He blinked in surprise at the question, turning his head slightly to regard Lucifer who was dutifully taking up the other half of the bed, head on Sam's shoulder. _Bunk buddy_. The mocking little nickname had used to annoy him, but now he couldn't help but be ironically amused at it. Right now, however, he was more surprised that Lucifer seemed to be genuinely concerned about him. "Yeah," he murmured, glancing over to ensure Dean was now asleep. "I'm good."

"The devil knows when you're lying, Sam," Lucifer said mildly.

Sam sighed and gave a half-shrug. "Just... If Deans finds out about... _This_. He'll go mental. He'll think _I've_ gone mental." He paused. "Maybe I have."

"I've seen worse kinds of crazy," Lucifer commented.

Unwittingly, Sam smiled. "I suppose." He bit his bottom lip thoughtfully. "This... It's not like before. It's different now."

"Do I get a gold star for my good behaviour?"

Sam laughed, glancing anxiously over at Dean, who thankfully didn't stir.

"But honestly, Sam," Lucifer spoke up, voice softer than usual. "You've been... Kind to me. In ways you didn't have to. No one gives sympathy to the devil, maybe for good reason."

"You're still an insane narcissist with ridiculous beliefs," Sam said, keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "But you're alright company. You know, when you're behaving."

"I'll be good for you, Sammy. Only you, though."

"Remember your promise," Sam vaguely reminded, a slight tone of reprimand to his voice. "You keep your end of the deal and you can stay."

All Lucifer gave in response was a small nod.

Sam sighed, half-heartedly noting one of Lucifer's arms draped over his chest. Letting his eyes fall shut, he gave in and rested his cheek on top of Lucifer's head before sleep claimed him.

* * *

Dean was up first the next morning. Sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, he glanced curiously over at Sam who still looked about to fall off the edge of the bed in his sleep. Dean shook his head in confusion, kicking the covers off and heading towards the bathroom.

Mentally going through the plans for the day, Dean rinsed out his mouth and spat into the sink.

It was nice, really, to just be on a standard hunt for once, just him and Sam like the old times. Granted, he would rather have not had the knowledge of Cas sat in a mental ward somewhere, but with everything that had happened recently, this was the best situation they'd been in for a long time.

Wiping his face on a towel, Dean turned to head back into the main room.

"-we do."

Dean blinked, stopping in the doorway and staring in confusion at his brother who abruptly snapped his head round to look at him with an undeniably guilty expression.

"Hey there, Dean."

"...Hey. Sammy, were you just talking to someone?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Er... Only myself. Sorry, thinking out loud again."

Dean frowned.

"Well, you know, with everything that's happened," Sam continued awkwardly. "I... I guess it helps me keep my thoughts organised." He shrugged vaguely, seeming a little more relaxed or a little more convinced that Dean was buying his explanation. "Helps keep me sane, you know."

Dean relaxed slightly, but still seemed on edge. "You said you were okay though."

"I am," Sam insisted. "I'm great. Just... Some things take a while to get over. Surely you of all people know that, Dean."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I suppose."

Sam gave a weak smile. "Hey, me talking to myself is hardly the weirdest thing you've ever encountered, right?"

Dean laughed softly, happy to pick up on the light-hearted tone Sam had turned the conversation to. "Yeah, I guess it could be worse. Just don't make it too much of a habit."

"Sure," Sam replied.

Dean nodded, crossing the room to find his clothes for the day, though he kept watch on Sam out the corner of his eyes. His brother _seemed_ fine, happy, at least, busy sorting himself out to take on the day. Though just as Dean began to turn away, he could have sworn he saw Sam exchange something akin to a relieved glance with thin air.

* * *

"Okay, no more conversations when Dean's around," Sam declared, adjusting the collar of his stiff white shirt as he closed the door of the rented car.

Two leads had cropped up at once, so Dean had gone to spy on the possible nest location, while Sam went to talk to a grieving widow who had found her husband with his throat ripped out and supposedly seen the offender fleeing after taking an impossible jump out the third-story window.

"Dean's around most of the time, Sammy," Lucifer pointed out, following him up the path of the modest town house. "You wouldn't leave me to be bored all day, would you?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he knocked on the door. "I'm sure you'll live. It'd just be for a while. I need to practice acting like you're not there."

To his surprise, Lucifer seemed suddenly uncomfortable. "Sam..."

He looked over at him curiously. "What?"

"Acknowledgement, remember. If you ignore me too much, I go zap back downstairs."

Realisation dawned on Sam's face with a small nod. "Alright. Erm, don't worry, I won't ignore you. Just, warn me if you hear Dean coming, right? You know he's gonna flip if he finds out about this."

"I'll be the best lookout you could have, Sammy," Lucifer promised, turning curiously as the door opened to reveal a dark haired woman with puffy eyes.

Sam straightened himself up, snapping into fed mode. "Hello, ma'am. Sorry to disturb you at such a difficult time, but we have a few questions over your husband's death." He flashed the replica FBI badge. "Could we talk for a few moments?"

The woman looked surprised at finding an FBI agent on her front doorstep, but nodded nonetheless, stepping back to allow Sam inside. She seemed either jittery with grief, or of a particularly edgy personality, however, practically slamming the door shut after Sam, almost hitting Lucifer who only just managed to dive through in time.

Sam winced, pressing his lips together to remain serious as Lucifer stuck his forked tongue out at the woman who was obliviously leading the way through to the living room.

The room was rather small and stuffy, full of worn, old-fashioned furniture. Sam took a seat on the threadbare green sofa, the woman hunched in an adjacent arm chair.

"Just tell me anything you remember, ma'am. Even things that seem silly or irrelevant. Every little detail helps."

As the woman began babbling through an account of seeing a man dash impossibly fast away from the lifeless body of her husband, Sam paid half-attention, watching as Lucifer strolled round the room as if looking for something. He was just taking note of the woman's frantic muttering about "probably imagining things" and "bizarre teeth" when Lucifer began pointing at something on the curtain beside the boarded up window the felon had apparently escaped through.

Politely asking the woman if a cup of coffee was possible to get her out the room, Sam waited until she left before jumping up to examine the curtain. Leaning in closely to the navy fabric, he found that sure enough there was a stray hair clinging to the material, long and blonde in colour.

"Good work," Sam muttered.

"Maybe I should become a hunter," Lucifer joked, hands clasped behind his back as he smirked at Sam.

Twenty minutes later and they were leaving the house again, the hair contained safely in a small plastic bag.

"If we take this to the sheriff's department, they should be able to run a DNA scan. That'll hopefully tell us who our vamp is," Sam said, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. "I better update Dean."

* * *

Turning away from the binoculars he'd been staring through for the past hour, Dean picked up his buzzing phone from the passenger seat and hit the button to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hey Dean," his brother's voice came from the other end of the line. "Got a bit of info from the widow. As well as possible DNA evidence on our vamp."

"Alright. Good work, Sammy."

As Sam relayed the information to him, Dean kept a part of his attention on the old warehouse he'd seen a couple of squinting figures enter about ten minutes ago. After Sam had finished telling him everything, he told his brother to come join him and prepare to go in and chop some heads. Sam agreed with a promise that he'd been there soon after stopping by the Sheriff's office.

As Sam bid goodbye, Dean went to hang up the phone, when a strange muffled noise came from the other end of the line. He frowned curiously, putting the phone back to his ear and listening. There was a sound like material rubbing against the receiver then the sound of an engine starting.

"Idiot forgot to hang up," Dean muttered, moving to cut the call off when the sound of Sam's voice stopped him.

"So, we're gonna go cut down these vamps and that should be it."

Dean frowned. Yes, he knew that, but it didn't seem as if Sam was talking to him anyway. God, was his little talking to himself habit really this bad that he narrated his own life to himself?

"Depends what time we finish up when we move on. If it's late we'll probably stay in the same hotel tonight."

Dean was becoming concerned now. He would have thought Sam really unstable to be speaking to himself like this, if it wasn't for his utterly calm tone while doing so. Then again, he had heard talking to yourself could be a good way of managing your thoughts, but still-

What was _that?_ It was barely audible and the phone line was beginning to crackle anyway, which Dean was kind of grateful for because it sounded like the kind of noise that would be uncomfortable any louder. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd heard it before, along with having several windows shatter around him. It sounded like white noise. It sounded like... Like...

No, it couldn't be. But either way, _whatever _it was, it sounded bizarrely as if it were replying to Sam. Sam wasn't speaking to himself.

He pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring the slight discomfort at the high sound, though it faded out eventually, to be replaced with his brother speaking once more.

"Yeah, me and Dean have always shared rooms, really. Saves money for a start."

The noise again. Then his brother laughing softly.

"No, we only shared beds as kids. And only if they were the only hotel rooms dad could get. Though you're right, it would be cheaper. But Dean kicks in his sleep."

Dean frowned mildly at that. "I do not," he muttered, but the noise was there again.

Then Sam's reply. "Yeah, I know, Luci."


	6. It Had To Be A Mess

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 6: It Had To Be A Mess**

Sam was sleeping on the edge of the bed again. Lying on his side, wide awake, Dean had been watching for the past half hour since Sam had dozed off.

Their hunt had been a great success, and usually he would have been more than happy with the achievement of taking out a whole nest, but the thrill was rather dimmed when he'd spent half the time wondering what his brother was hiding.

But aside from it all, Sam seemed fine. He'd been enthusiastic to get the job done, perfectly focused and happy afterwards. Even now, he was fast asleep, appearing to have as few worries as a Winchester ever could. He seemed... Normal. But normal people didn't talk to themselves. Or even worse, something else that no one else could see.

But _what?_ That noise through the phone, the only thing he had to compare it to was Castiel's initial attempts to communicate with him. But... He'd even rung Meg to check Cas hadn't been near Sam, and what other angels did they know? At least any that were left?

_Luci_, he was sure that was what he'd heard. But who the hell was Luci?

The only remotely similar name was... But no, that was impossible. Lucifer was down in hell and Cas had removed the previous... Issue. Besides, that had been a mere hallucination. You didn't talk with hallucinations.

But the other option was almost as worrying. Luci... Lucy? A demon? It wouldn't be the first time.

He sighed, turning over and pounding the pillow. Whatever was going on, he would have to sort it.

* * *

Dean was a lot like Michael. That wasn't necessarily a good thing. Like Michael, Dean appeared to have an over-bearing habit of wanting to know anything and everything that was going on, including all the habits of his little brother.

But there were some things Dean was better off not knowing. At least that was how Sam seemed to view it. Lucifer was inclined to agree. No matter how much Sam tried to deny it, their desire often aligned which made Lucifer all the more inclined to deal with Sam's problems for his own reasons.

Of course, as much as he hated to admit, his current powers were rather limited. Illusions and trickery, and even those he could only do for Sam. But angels had a wide array of abilities and he was clever enough to be creative.

As Sam had gone to sleep, he'd lain and watched Dean. Dean had been staring at them all night- well, at Sam, at least. Staring with suspicion and too much interest for Lucifer's liking.

He knew exactly what Dean would think of him hanging around his precious brother. And Dean would attempt to deal with it, because that was what Dean was like. Big brothers always thought they knew best. Dean's idea of 'best' would be to get rid of him, and that would mean sending him straight back down to the cage.

Lucifer would not go back. No way. He knew how much Sam cared for Dean- he'd had a big brother too, once upon a time- but no matter how close they were Dean didn't know everything and there were some things that Dean, or anyone else, just wouldn't understand.

* * *

"Hey Sammy," Dean said the next morning as they were packing up. "What do you say we head on back to Rufus' place? You know, get some real research done on the Leviathans."

Sam considered it, before nodding. "Sounds like a good plan to me. We need to get our act together if we're gonna take them down. Might as well get organised."

"Alright then. Breakfast and then we'll head out."

An hour later and they were doing just that, bags loaded into the Impala as Dean started up the engine.

It took over half the day to get from Colorado to Montana and they pulled up outside the cabin at just past nine at night.

"Man, long drive," Dean commented, pushing open the front door.

Sam gave him an amused look. "I thought being in that car was your favourite place?"

"Hey, I love Baby," Dean insisted. "But unfortunately even she doesn't have a beer fridge and decent beds."

"I wouldn't call half the beds you sleep in decent," Lucifer commented.

"I'm gonna go see the state of the upstairs rooms," Dean said. "I'm hoping there's some clean sheets somewhere."

Sam merely nodded, heading through to the kitchen as his brother headed up the stairs. He pulled open the fridge, grimacing at the sight of several moldy products. It looked like they would need to get a shop in, not to mention cleaning up the place.

A sudden yell from Dean made him spin round so fast he almost hit his head on the top of the fridge. But he didn't have time to bother with that as there was a series of quick thumps and suddenly Dean was sprawled at the bottom of the staircase.

"Dean!"

He hurried forward, kneeling down next to his brother who was looking rather dazed.

"Dean? Are you okay? What happened?"

To his relief, his brother groaned and blinked, before looking up at him. "Aw man, my arm."

Sam winced, seeing the quickly expanding swelling around Dean's wrist. He felt the area tenderly, looking back to the vast first aid training he'd acquired over the years. He was relieved to find it seemed to only be sprained, not broken. "Dean, what happened?"

Dean sat up gingerly, holding his injured arm to his chest. "I... I don't know. I was just at the top of the stairs then there was this..." He frowned. "A _light_. I couldn't see where it came from, but it was just reflecting off of things. Like really, really, bright, man. Practically blinded me. I sort of stepped back instinctively and stumbled down the stairs." He groaned. "Which wasn't the best idea, let me tell you."

Sam frowned in confusion, turning to look towards the stairs for any signs of what could have caused this to happen. He'd only turned halfway, however, when his gaze fell on Lucifer stood at the back of the room and realisation dawned.

Without looking away, he spoke to Dean. "You alright to walk?'

"I'm not crippled, Sammy," Dean said, standing to prove the point. "Just a little bruised." He turned to face his brother. "But Sammy, listen, we need to talk. Seriously. I-"

"Later, Dean." Sam pulled his gaze away. "You're hurt. Go get some rest. I'll be up in a minute."

"Sam-"

"Please, Dean. Just trust me, okay?"

Dean looked less than happy, but eventually nodded, turning and cautiously heading back upstairs.

Sam waited until he heard the bedroom door close.

"You promised me."

"I had to do it, Sammy."

"You _had_ to throw my brother down the stairs?!" He demanded, crossing the room so he was standing right in front of the devil. "He could have been seriously hurt."

"He was getting suspicious, Sam. Just like you were worried about." Lucifer's eyes narrowed seriously as he met Sam's gaze. "He wants to get rid of me."

Sam sighed in frustration, quickly breaking the eye contact. "He doesn't know anything."

"He's catching on, Sam," Lucifer insisted, raising his voice slightly as if to make his point clearer. "He was watching you. Last night. While you were asleep."

Sam blinked in surprise, but shook his head. "It doesn't matter. He can't do anything. He doesn't even know anything, not really."

"But what if he _did_, Sam? What happens then?"

"Then... Then we'll work something out," he said weakly.

Lucifer gave a cold smile. "Because your brother's always been so reasonable," he drawled, knowing very well Sam couldn't help but agree.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said. "He wouldn't be able to do anything. You said yourself, you being here depends on me."

Lucifer let his gaze drop to the floor, shaking his head slowly. "And a lot of what you do depends on Dean. It's common knowledge amongst all your little enemies, Sam- Dean's the one you'll always care about most."

Sam was about to reply, angry and frustrated, but something about that statement made him hesitate just briefly. He replayed the words in his head. "Of course I care about Dean. He's my brother and I love him, but that doesn't mean I can't care about other people, too."

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes dragged back up to meet his.

"You have to understand, Lucifer. Being able to care for something else doesn't mean you care about other things any less." His expression softened slightly, now more of disappointment than anger. "I'm trying to make you understand, but I think this has always been your problem. You want people's affections all to yourself. You can't stand someone you want to love you loving someone else, too."

Lucifer's expression darkened threateningly at being psychoanalysed, but still, there was the slightest gleam in his eyes, the briefest hint that he was listening.

"That's why you fell," Sam continued, tone cautiously factual. "God loved humans, so you thought that must mean he'd stopped loving you as much. And you think me caring about Dean means I'll stop caring about you. But I won't."

"This isn't some silly emotional crisis, Sam," Lucifer snapped. "I was trying to stop Dean finding a way to send me back downstairs."

"He wouldn't have done," Sam replied. "I wouldn't have let him."

It was almost unnoticeable, but Lucifer's eyes widened just slightly at that.

"I told you- promised you- you could stay. Like I thought you promised me you wouldn't hurt the people I care about." Sam leant back slightly with a sigh. "But you broke your promise, Lucifer, and you need to learn."

Sam braced himself for the backlash.

"One night. I'm locking you out for one night."

Lucifer's expression instantly turned to one of horror. "No. Sam-"

"You can come back in the morning," Sam said, pointedly turning away and starting to walk past him towards the stairs. "And then you can stay. But this time you have to keep your promise." He began climbing the stairs, snatching up a knife from the tabletop on the way. "But for now, you broke your end of the deal."

Lucifer was running after him. "Sam, I didn't- he... He was trying to send me away. He was going to find out. Sam-"

"One night." They'd reached the bedroom door. Sam pushed back his sleeve and pressed the blade against his forearm, crimson liquid instantly splaying free of the cut. He wiped two fingers of the opposite hand in it and turned to the wall.

Lucifer had caught on. "No, Sam. _Please_. I did it for us. For you. _Sam_."

He dragged his hand round in a circle, filled in the details, the little symbols, ignoring Lucifer's pulling on his arm, ignoring the phantom windows smashing, the floor shaking. "Just one night."

"Sam. I didn't... Sam. I... I'm-"

Closing his eyes in something between regret and anguish, Sam slammed his hand against the symbol. A blinding light filled the corridor and Lucifer was gone.

For a few moments, Sam just stared at the empty corridor, before releasing a shaky sigh and pulling open the door to the bedroom, rolling down his sleeve on the way.

Dean was predictably sat on the bed waiting for him, his expression conveying a clear desire to question his little brother.

"Sam-"

"Not now, Dean."

"But, Sam, listen. I know something's going on with you. You-"

"Everything fine, Dean. Don't worry."

"No, Sam. I know something not right. That crazy light that knocked me flying. You know something about it, don't you? You've been talking to something. Sam-"

"I said to leave it, Dean." His tone was authoritative enough to silence his brother. He sighed and turned to face him properly. "Really Dean, it's okay. You should rest, you need to sleep off those injuries."

Dean continued to protest, but Sam ignored him, heading through to the bathroom and washing the blood off of his arm. He couldn't deal with Dean's questions right now. He felt drained, upset, betrayed. In a way he thought what hurt most was that he could actually understand Lucifer's train of thought. He understood, yet he couldn't show Lucifer why he was wrong. He'd had enough instances of conflicting views with Dean and their father to be all too familiar with these feelings, and he knew enough to recognise that sometimes tough love was needed.

Suddenly exhausted, he turned and made his way back into the bedroom. Dean continued to assault him with questions, but Sam merely shook his head and mumbled answers, undressing and climbing into his bed.

Eventually, Dean cursed and sighed in frustration, before moodily turning over so his back was Sam. "This isn't over, Sam," he said.

Sam knew that, but Dean could wait. He had to get through this night first.

It was well past midnight when Dean finally feel asleep, but Sam remained wide awake, exhausted but unable to settle. He lay on his back in the middle of the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. _One night, just one night._ It was necessary, he knew. And he truly hoped the message would get through by the morning. This was the best way to deal with things, but even so, Sam didn't sleep a wink.


	7. You, Me, Locked Ward

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 7: You, Me, Locked Ward**

By six AM, he couldn't stand just lying in bed any longer. Sighing, he glanced over at the still-sleeping Dean, before sitting up and running a shaky hand through his hair.

Last night had been far more difficult than he would have liked to admit. As betrayed as he felt, that wasn't the only problem, and after the first few hours Sam had been unable to deny the crippling, abject loneliness he felt.

Careful not to wake Dean, he slipped out of bed and crept out of the room.

Despite it being technically morning, he knew six AM was clearly on the early end of punishment time. To drag out the time a little longer, he went and cleared the banishment symbol off of the wall- which needed to be done anyway to avoid Dean's questions- before washing and dressing for the day and finally heading downstairs.

After wondering for almost an hour as to what he could do when Lucifer tried to come back, it had suddenly occurred to him what he had known all along- he was in control. Lucifer's fate truly did depend on him and he could keep the devil out if he only put his mind to it, same as he had done to take back control of his body long enough to throw them into the cage.

Sat stiffly in the middle of the worn sofa, Sam slowly dragged his gaze up to the clock on the wall. Six-thirty. He hoped that would do to get his point across.

Closing his eyes in concentration, it took only a few moments of focusing before he sensed the familiar presence in front of him. He hesitated before opening his eyes.

"Well, well, aren't we clever."

Ignoring Lucifer's bitterness- it had been expected anyway- he clasped his hands together and pointedly looked up at the devil's face.

Fire spurned up around him, flames licking at his clothes with a frighteningly realistic heat, but Sam ignored it all, keeping his eyes on Lucifer's. Windows shattered, the walls even cracked, but still he held his gaze.

"You know what, I don't care if I have to stay down there," Lucifer said. "But I'm gonna drag you back down with me."

"There's no need for that," Sam replied, voice carefully neutral. "You can stay here."

"You've said that before."

"And I meant it. But you broke your promise."

"You're pathetic, Sam. With your little _promises_."

Sam stood up, raising himself to his full height, which was undoubtedly his most impressive feature. "The tough devil act won't work on me."

"It's really heartwarming, seeing how much you love your brother," Lucifer continued, turning his head away in a disturbingly casual gesture, his tone almost friendly. "So sweet. Imagine if something happened to poor little Dean."

"Caring isn't a weakness, Lucifer."

"On the contrary, Sam, it'll likely be your downfall."

Sam shrugged. "Then so be it. I do care."

"About _Dean_," Lucifer sneered, folding his arms.

"Yes, about Dean," Sam said. "I cared about my dad, too. And my mum, though I never really knew her. About Bobby, Ellen, Joe, Garth, all the friends I've had. And I care about you."

Whatever comeback Lucifer had had seemed to die on his lips. For a brief moment, his expression was truly genuine, of something between shock and reassurance.

"See, it can work," Sam continued. "I can care for loads of people. Hundreds even. But one will never overtake another. Maybe I'm too soft, but so be it. Hell, maybe I'm crazy, but regardless-" he gave Lucifer a purposeful look- "I care about you."

For a few moments, Lucifer was silent, studying Sam's face as if looking for signs of doubt. "If you care so much, why'd you send me away?"

"Because I need you to learn. You have to accommodate the other people in my life, Lucifer. Dean is important to me and that's never going to change." He sighed. "Sometimes you have to adjust. Dean will have to, too. Otherwise this isn't going to work. You know how he's likely to react if he finds out, but there's more of a chance of him accepting you if you accept him."

"The devil isn't accepting, Sam. I don't like other people."

"You don't have to. Hell, hate Dean if you want, but like it or not he's here to stay. And if you are, too, you'll have to agree to that."

Lucifer seemed to consider it.

"I'm gonna ask again, Lucifer, and I really mean it this time." Sam kept his eyes fixed on him, despite Lucifer avoiding his gaze. "I need you to promise me. That's all I ask. That you don't hurt anyone I care about."

"And if they try and hurt me?"

"The only way they can get to you is through me. I won't allow that to happen," Sam said. "No matter what it takes. I promise _you_, if you keep your end of the bargain, I'll keep mine."

Slowly, Lucifer turned to face him properly. "You'll keep me out of the cage?"

"Yes."

"Forever?"

"If necessary, yes."

"Then I promise."

Sam nodded. He knew mere words were no guarantee, but somehow he found himself believing Lucifer this time. He wasn't about to mark this off as a great landmark moment of getting through to the devil, but still, there was a slight chance that perhaps Lucifer was at least _considering_ his point. And for now, that was good enough. Dean had said something about establishing a first step and building on it. He was pretty sure this was not at all what his brother had meant, but Sam felt it could still work.

He couldn't remember doing it, but at some point, he'd reached out and placed his hand on Lucifer's upper arm. Though blushing slightly, he didn't immediately let go, squeezing just slightly as Lucifer's gaze met his. Slowly, a small smile touched his lips.

* * *

It's only ten minutes later when Dean came downstairs, immediately giving him a concerned look over.

Sam knew the inevitable questioning was fast approaching, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to be too concerned. He knew the situation, he understood, and all he had to do was get Dean to understand. But for now, he was content to just give his brother a small smile, sat in the corner of the sofa with Lucifer draped across the other two seats to his right, leaning back against his shoulder with his arms folded, legs hooked over the arm rest.

"Morning," Sam said, watching as Dean sunk slowly down into an arm chair.

"You were up early," Dean commented.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "I had some stuff to take care of."

"Stuff?"

"It's sorted now."

Dean looked less than satisfied with that explanation. "Right. Now, you wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_," Dean began, frustration rising. "Why you appear to be talking to something I can't see and then some crazy light is trying to knock me down the stairs."

"I told you, Dean, I just voice my thoughts out loud sometimes. I'm not talking to anyone."

"I heard you, Sam." Seeing his brother about to try and deny it, Dean cut him off. "No, I heard all of it. Just before we took out the vamp's nest. You called me, but you must have not hung up properly and I... I could hear you talking. Like a whole proper conversation."

Sam tried very hard not to let the shock show on his face. "I was just-"

"No, Sam. Don't give me that crap. You were conversing, not just muttering to yourself or something. You talked as if someone was talking right back."

"But they weren't," Sam said weakly.

"Well that's where it gets real crazy," Dean continued. "I could hear someone else. Or more, something else."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "You could?"

"A noise," Dean said. "Some crazy high pitched noise. And you know what? I've heard something like it before. White noise, bright lights, sounds to me like angels, Sam."

"Cas is in the hospital, Dean, you know that."

"Cas ain't the only angel." Dean paused. "Or maybe I'm wrong. So what is it then? Another demon? Don't tell me you're back on the demon blood?"

"No," Sam said quickly. "Of course not. I've told you, Dean, I'm fine." He sighed, quickly looking for a change of subject. "Anyway, shouldn't we be getting on with finding out a way to take out the leviathans?"

Dean looked put out at Sam's obvious attempt to steer the conversation topic in a different direction, but there was no denying Sam had a point. "Yeah, I suppose. But this conversation isn't over, Sam."

* * *

He slept much better that night. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend it wasn't comforting to have Lucifer back beside him, head against his chest, their legs entangled under the covers.

He woke up to find Dean's bed empty, though he soon found him after venturing into the living room, just as Dean was hanging up the phone.

"Who you talking to?" Sam asked, taking a box of cereal from the cupboard and checking the expiration date.

"Garth," Dean said, not quite looking at him. "He's gonna pop over."

"Cool," Sam replied mildly, frowning as he realised there was no milk and putting the cereal back.

"There's a pack of protein bars in here," Lucifer said, holding open a different cupboard.

Sam nodded in thanks and reached in to get the packet. "You want one?" he said, turning to Dean. "We haven't got much else in."

Dean shook his head. "I'm good. Never much liked those things."

Sam shrugged and opened up his makeshift breakfast, looking up as there was the sound of a car pulling up outside. "Is that Garth already? He got here quick."

"Yeah, I called him last night, actually," Dean said. "He just called to tell me he was nearly here."

"Okay. So is he helping us track down the Leviathans?"

"Something like that."

It was then that Sam noticed his brother's hand heading towards his inside pocket. He didn't have time to move, before the door slammed open and Garth stepped into the room pointing a gun at him. Dean soon took up a similar stance.

"Guys?" Sam blurted. "What the hell?"

"It's for your own good, Sammy," Dean said.

Garth moved further into the room. "Dean says you've been having some issues, Sam. We're just gonna help sort them, that's all."

"So what, you're gonna shoot me?"

"Not if we don't have to," Dean said. "We just want you to cooperate, Sammy."

Sam glanced beside him, taking in the dark look on Lucifer's face, before holding up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'll play along. Just cool it." Lucifer glanced at him and he shook his head.

"Okay," Dean said slowly. "There's a panic room here, too. Just like at Bobby's. You go down there without a fuss, alright?"

"Alright." Leaving his half eaten breakfast abandoned on the counter, Sam calmly allowed himself to be led down a narrow staircase. As Dean and Garth crowded close to him, he reached out and grabbed Lucifer's hand, pulling the devil close to him as they continued walking.

The panic room turned out to be almost identical to Bobby's original, down to the bed in the centre. Sam placidly took a seat on the edge, Lucifer beside him.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean said, cautiously lowering his gun. "You're gonna stay here for a while, alright? Just until we figure out what to do."

"Okay."

Dean and Garth exchanged uneasy glances as if wary of his cooperation, but stepped back and closed the door nonetheless. Sam listened to them walk up the stairs before sighing.

"So what now, Sammy?" Lucifer said.

Sam shrugged. "Wait it out, I guess. Prove to them that nothing bad's going on."

"So it's just you and me in a locked room again."

Sam smiled weakly. "Not funny."

* * *

Sam had to admit, it was kind of peaceful. Beside the occasional sound from the cabin above, the room was more or less silent.

He'd been bought food for lunch and dinner, and it thankfully seemed that either Dean or Garth had been out to the store to get something non-expired in. The sun was now setting, as he could see through the small barred window near the top of the room.

"You okay, Sammy?" Lucifer asked from behind him, making Sam turn from where he'd been stood aimlessly, to look at the devil sat on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just trying to work out how I can get Dean to understand."

Lucifer seemed unsure of what to say to that, instead letting his gaze travel up to look at the ever-darkening sky.

"There's no light in here," Sam said, gaze traveling up to the ceiling to find a single lightbulb that no longer seemed to be functioning.

A sudden glare startled him, his head snapping down to stare at Lucifer who was now sat with his wings spread behind him, a soft, cool light emanating from them and illuminating the room.

"Bright enough for you, Sammy?"

* * *

He didn't know why, but he insisted Lucifer keep his wings visible. It was now approaching seven in the morning according to his watch and he lay on the cramped bed in the middle of the room, Lucifer against his side, one wing spread over him like a blanket, the other draping off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

The sound of locks clicking filled the small room and Sam turned his head to the side just in time to see Dean pulling the door open, a tray in one hand.

His brother looked up at him with a cautious smile. "Brought you some breakfast."

"Great," Sam said flatly, sitting up as Lucifer quickly shifted to avoid Dean treading on his wing. Sam shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, taking the tray with a nod. Lucifer sat beside him, one wing coiling around Sam's shoulders, which made him smile briefly.

"So," Dean said slowly, taking a seat on the single metal chair at the side of the room. "How you doing?"

"I'm alright, Dean. I was alright before." He looked down at his breakfast to find Dean had brought him porridge, complete with honey and sugar.

"Been chatting with whatever little invisible friend you've got? Or can they not get in here?"

Sam sighed, suddenly feeling distinctly unlike eating, he placed the tray aside. "No, he's right here."

From Dean's expression, it was clear he hadn't expected an honest answer. "So there is something. Who is it, Sam? _What _is it?"

Apparently they were doing this now. Sam sighed, looking over to his side, vaguely feeling the wing around his shoulders shift as if to embrace him, and turned back to his brother. "It's Lucifer."


	8. Most People Think I Burn Hot

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 8: Most People Think I Burn Hot**

"_Lucifer?_" Dean exclaimed, stumbling to his feet in shock and looking down at his younger brother in something better horror and worry. He ran a shaky hand through him hair, teeth clenched. "But Cas... No, look, okay, it'll be alright, Sam." He stepped closer to his brother, obviously trying to compose himself. "We'll find you some more help... Somehow. I-"

"Dean," Sam cut in firmly, shaking his head. "It's okay. I keep telling you, it's okay."

Utterly perplexed at his brother's calm attitude, Dean turned to him incredulously. "Sam, you're seeing the devil again, how the hell is that okay?"

Sam sighed. "Dean, please, just sit down and listen."

For a few moments, Dean seemed unwilling, but eventually he took a step back, sinking back down onto the chair. "Sam, why the hell are you so calm about this?"

Sam gave a slow shrug. "Because there's nothing to worry about. I'm okay. Really."

"Sam, you're hallucinating."

"But I'm _not_," Sam replied. "That's just it, Dean. This is a perfectly real situation, and I've got control over it."

"How the hell do you mean you've 'got control'?"

"Just like when I took back control of my body," Sam explained. "Sure, it took a while, but now, I'm the one holding the reins."

Dean looked utterly baffled, staring at his brother with a look that clearly showed he thought this was madness. "So you're trying to tell me you've got the devil on a leash?"

Sam pulled an uncomfortable face at Dean's choice of words. "In a sense, but not quite so degrading. Just... Call it a compromise. We've got a deal."

"A deal with the _devil?_"

"An agreement," Sam insisted firmly.

"And what 'agreement' is that?"

"Simple," Sam replied. "He behaves, he gets to stay with me. You know, out of the cage."

"Well your little deal seems to have been broken, Sammy. He sent me flying down the stairs."

Sam sighed, glancing at Lucifer out of the corner of his eyes, pleased to see he was at least making an attempt to look appropriately abashed. "That was a stupid mistake. He knows and I punished him for it."

"You punished the devil?" Dean seemed to be genuinely considering pinching himself to ensure this wasn't a dream.

"I sent him back to the cage for the night. He promised he won't do anything like that again."

"And you believe him?"

Sam swallowed, hardening his resolve and making a point of meeting his brother's gaze full-on. "Yes," he said. "I do."

For a few moments, Dean just stared at him, before turning away with a sigh and shaking his head. "Man, Sammy, what am I gonna do with you? You... You've full on lost it."

"No, I haven't, Dean," Sam replied, slightly put out at his brother's words. "I told you. I'm fine. I'm okay." He frowned as Dean seemed to be refusing to look at him. "Dean, I need you to trust me here."

"And how the hell am I supposed to do that, Sammy?" Dean dragged his gaze back up to Sam's face. "You're telling me you're running with the devil here."

"Not like that," Sam said. "I told you, there's nothing going on, or risky. He's just... Here. With me."

Dean frowned. "What, you mean, right now?"

Sam glanced to his side again. "Yes."

Dean's expression only darkened, his eyes darting around the room as if Lucifer would suddenly become visible to him. "Where?"

"Right here," Sam nodded to his left.

Dean stared at the spot incredulously, while Lucifer raised an eyebrow back at him. The older of the Winchester brother's slowly turned to look at Sam once more. "And what is he doing right now?"

Sam shrugged. "Sitting there, Dean, that's all." He felt a tickle against the back of his neck and smiled. "Actually there's a wing over my shoulders. You should see them, Dean, they're amazing."

Dean looked less than impressed.

"Please," Sam continued. "You have to trust me, Dean. Come on, think about it, in the past few weeks have I done anything... Anything at all that's been really dangerous or concerning?"

"You mean apart from talking to Satan?"

"You know what I mean. It's not like I'm drinking demon blood again, or taking any crazy risks. I'm fine. Everything's normal, just... Lucifer's here, too."

"That doesn't fit my definition of normal, Sam." Dean stood up, his expression stern. "I don't know what to do, Sammy. You're not giving me many options here."

"I'm asking you to trust me, Dean," Sam said. "Trust me as your brother. Come on, I've cooperated, haven't I? I've let you lock me down here."

Dean took a step towards the door, looking distinctly as if he were backing away from a savage animal. "Yeah, well maybe that's best for now." And with that, he turned away, stepping out of the room and locking the door firmly behind him.

Sam sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. The wing shifted around his shoulders, curling inwards as if to embrace him and Sam managed the smallest smile.

* * *

"He could have left us a TV at least," Sam said, lying back on the bed and staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Lucifer raised his head from where he lay next to him, rolling his eyes. "You humans and your constant need for entertainment. Is there anything you don't rely on technology for?"

Sam ignored the jibe and shrugged.

A few minutes of silence passed by agonisingly slowly, before Sam slowly turned his head to look toward Lucifer. "Sing for me," he said.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, I want to hear the Angel of Music doing his job. Sing something for me." He paused, before smiling. "_Not_ 'Stairway to Heaven'."

Lucifer looked distinctly amused. "So you admit you like my singing after all?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's better than this damn silence, at least. _Sing._"

Lucifer merely smirked, sitting up and looking down at Sam in amusement. He was silent, apparently denying the request, until just as Sam looked away, the first words of 'Sympathy For The Devil' filled the silence of the room.

Sam let out a small laugh at the irony, but lay there and listened contently, reaching up and gently running his hand along the inside of Lucifer's left wing. The feathers were soft and ticklish against his fingertips, as Lucifer smooth voice drowned out the silence. He really was a good singer, hitting each note and beat exactly, never once faltering as each syllable merged steadily into the next in a perfect ballad, despite the lack of background music.

Ignoring the whole mess of a situation, ignoring the slight chill of the room and the uncomfortable mattress on the bed, Sam merely lay there and listened.

He knew Dean was both angry and confused. He knew this situation was far from ideal. Heck, he knew it was downright crazy. But somehow, he found himself coping with it. More than coping, he... He was happy.

"..._as every cop's a criminal, and all the sinners saints..."_

Sam moved his hand up, along Lucifer's shoulder, to the back of his neck.

"..._as heads it tails, just call me Lucifer..."_

He leant up, or pulled Lucifer down, or possibly a combination of both.

"_...cause I'm in need of some restraint."_

He wasn't sure exactly why he was kissing him, but even as the realisation fully hit, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Besides, Lucifer didn't seem to mind. He didn't know why all that romantic poetry and literature he'd studied at school lovingly described warm lips during a kiss, because right now the pleasant iciness of Lucifer's mouth was enough to send a tingle down his spine. Or perhaps, a shiver would be a more appropriate description.

When he eventually pulled back, he collapsed right back onto the mattress in an embarrassingly flustered state, Lucifer half on top of him, his wings stretched out above them with a soft glow that Sam liked to think was an indication of pleasure.

"Well, Dean won't be happy about that, Sammy."

Sam sighed, placing his hand on the side of Lucifer's face with an intimacy that suddenly felt so very natural. "Dean doesn't have to know everything," he said softly.

* * *

"So your brother's hanging with Satan?"

"Pretty much," Dean said, gritting his teeth in frustration, only half paying attention to Garth, most of his attention on glaring at random objects.

"But he said it's under control, didn't he?"

"Seeing the devil is not a sign of control, Garth," Dean snapped, spinning round to face him. "It's _the devil_. Nothing about this is good."

"But Sam seems happy," Garth pointed out. "It's not like he's, you know, crying in a corner of going around killing or anything. He's acting perfectly fine."

"He can be perfectly fine without the devil hanging onto him."

Garth shrugged vaguely. "But does Lucifer even have any power left? I know you said he tried to throw you down the stairs-"

"He didn't try, he did."

"-but if that's the most he can do it's hardly the biggest threat, is it? These Leviathans seemed a little more scary right now."

Dean sighed, folding his arms. "At least the Leviathans aren't screwing around inside my brother's head. Who knows what poison the devil's dripping in his ear."

"Has Lucifer even tried to make Sam do anything, though? Sam's been totally on game in my opinion."

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "Come on, man, it's the devil, he's got to be up to something. He's here for a reason."

"Same gave you a reason, you told me."

Dean frowned. "What all that staying out of the cage crap? That's weak, Garth."

"Not really," the other replied. "Think about it, Dean. You've been to hell. Would you want to be there if you could help it? Even if it meant swallowing your pride and having to get along with someone you don't particularly want to."

"I-" Dean broke off, abruptly falling into thought as he took in what Garth had said. "But... But he's the devil, hells no problem for him."

"Are you sure about that? He's locked in a cage down there, man. Even if they all think he's the big man down there, doesn't mean it's a good time. Even if you're the best man in the place, if that place is a crazy, smoking torture dungeon, doesn't make it any more fun."

Dean frowned, but there was a hint of comprehension to his expression. "Don't go sympathizing with the devil, Garth. He's down there for a reason, remember. He's bad news. Crazy, reckless."

"So was Cas, but you still defend him."

Dean fell silent. Eventually he shook his head. "Cas isn't the devil." Despite his words, his voice held significantly less power than before.

"And you're brother ain't stupid. Until something bad happens to say otherwise, we're gonna have to trust him."

"Oh, I trust Sam," Dean said. "It's the freaking devil I'm worried about."

* * *

Sam Winchester had always been curious. It had helped him, at times, like when Dean or their father or angels or whoever would insist things had to go down one way, Sam would pointedly try them another way. If someone told him to leave something well alone, Sam was like to go and take a peek. So when he'd been burning with curiosity as to what making out with a forked tongue was like, it hadn't been long before he set about finding out.

And it was distinctly pleasant, he'd discovered, flushed and bleary-eyed as he lay side-by-side with Lucifer, their legs entangled, mouths slowly working against each other's.

He vaguely imagined going back in time and telling his old self this, that one day he'd be making out with the devil, and he almost laughed at the idea. Just-out-of-college-and-still-mourning-Jess-Sam would have been horrified, demon-fighting-Sam likely disgusted. But back then the devil had just been a myth. Apocalypse-fighting-Sam would have been... Embarrassed. Because he'd known then really, hadn't he? Much to his shame. That no matter how much hate or anger he felt, there was always that fascination, that each time he'd looked at Lucifer there had been... Something, something that made it hard to pull away. But common sense, righteousness, whatever, _had_ pulled him away and at the time that had been right. But this was right now.

He ran the tip of his tongue in between the two forked ends of Lucifer's, biting back a moan as Lucifer pulled away teasingly, though quickly leaning into to kiss him again. The devil's soft laugh faded into his mouth, making Sam smile in between kisses.

"Don't think I'm giving you control of everything, Sammy," Lucifer said softly.

Sam beamed, eyes shining as they pulled back from one another briefly. "I'm always up for a challenge," he replied.

Lucifer merely raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile lingering on his features that Sam now knew too well to be wary of. "A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yay for using cliche songs for cliche moments. Anyway, despite the fluff I hope this is staying mostly in character. And look, we're finally getting somewhere! The Samifer ship has sailed!**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	9. Ay Caramba, Mi Cabeza

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 9: Ay Caramba, Mi Cabeza**

Dean had to admit, there had been many times when he just hadn't known what to do. And the worst of those always included decisions that involved Sam. If it was just himself involved, he wasn't afraid to be reckless- hell, in this job he had to be. But Sam was his responsibility, or so it had always felt, so he always took more care when it came to his little brother.

Sam came first. Screw everyone else. And that included Lucifer.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his short hair, a glass of whisky held loosely in the other hand. It was past three in the morning and he hadn't yet been to bed, though he'd promised Garth he would go soon when the younger man had gone upstairs a good two hours earlier. He had gotten up to go once, but wanting to check on Sam first, he'd crept downstairs and peered in the small barred window in the door.

Sam had been sleeping, but in his usual position as of late, awkwardly on the edge of the bed and looking constantly as if he was about to topple off. Though only now did it occur to Dean there was someone else taking up the remaining space.

He'd gone back upstairs and poured himself the strongest drink in the house. This was too much. He had to do something.

* * *

"Don't you ever eat?" Sam asked, pausing with a slice of toast halfway to his mouth. "I mean, I know you don't need to, but I've seen Cas eat burgers."

"I don't often partake in things I don't need to, Sammy. I find that rather pointless."

"Well," Sam began. "I don't need to do _this_." He leant in and brushed their lips together again, before leaning back with a smile. "But we're doing it anyway."

"Getting sharp with our comments, aren't we, Sammy?" Lucifer said. "I'm teaching you well."

Sam rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back to breakfast. Dean has hardly said anything when he came to bring him the tray, but his brother's reaction had been expected so Sam knew all he could was wait it out, pointedly act as sane and normal as possible, and hope Dean would come around.

"So, not that I'm not used to being in a locked room with you by now, but when do you reckon big brother's gonna let you back out into the big wide world?"

Sam shrugged, swallowing his mouthful. "Whenever he's convinced I'm safe, I guess."

"No offense, Sammy, but right now Dean seems to think you're ten kinds of crazy."

Sam sighed, more at the painful truth of that than anything. "I know," he said at length. "But this can't go on forever. Something's got to give."

"Well Dean-o seems to think that something should be me."

"That's not going to happen," Sam said. "I won't let it."

His head snapped up at the sound of the locks sliding. The door creaked open and Dean stepped mutely into the room.

"Hey Sammy," he said softly, giving his brother a quick once over.

"Hi Dean," Sam replied, curiously looking for any sign as to why his brother was back so soon. "What's up?"

Dean shrugged, leaning back against the wall, one hand casually shoved in his pocket. "Listen, Sammy, you know I care about you, right?"

"Of course," Sam said. There was a note of caution in his voice. He wasn't stupid; he knew where this tone of conversation led- to somewhere he didn't like. Faux-friendly attitude aside, this was far from a casual visit and Sam's mind instantly began racing to try and work out what Dean's game was.

Though aware of Sam's growing apprehension, Dean adamantly remained calm as he continued. "And you know when I do stuff, it's always for your own good, right?"

Sam swallowed. "Dean, whatever you're thinking- don't. I've told you, I'm okay." He could feel Lucifer growing tense beside him, icy eyes fixed warily on his brother. "Let's just talk about this, Dean." He stood up, placing his now empty tray aside on the bed.

Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

"Sam," Lucifer said stiffly. "In his hand."

It was then that Sam saw it. Spray paint.

"Dean. _Please_."

"It's for your own good."

Sam made a leap towards him, but Dean was already near the door and slipped back through before Sam could touch him, leaving his brother to stumble and brace himself against the metal.

"Dean," he shouted through the small window. "_Dean_."

To his horror, he could only watch as Dean shook the can and began to draw. Straight lines and curves that turned into symbols. Angel warding.

Sam reached out, fumbled for Lucifer who wavered in front of his eyes like a TV losing it's picture. "No. _No._" He reached out to grab hold of him, but the solid figure in front of him crackled and diminished, the hand that had been stretched out just an inch from his own disappeared as a wave of agonized screaming exploded in his head, before that too, faded and he was left with a painful silence that was suddenly so much worse.

He heard the spray can drop to the floor outside with a metallic clunk, and spun round, launching himself at the door as Dean stared calmly back.

"Dean, no, _no_. Remove it. Take it off. _Dean._"

Dean shook his head. "No, Sammy. It had to be done."

"No, Dean. No, it _didn't_. Dean, _please_."

His brother stepped back, heading towards the stairs. "I'll be back soon, Sammy. Give it a few hours. You'll see how much better off you are alone."

"No, Dean. No. _No. Dean._"

Dean disappeared up the stairs, the sound of his steps echoing in the empty silence. Sam saw red, banged, kicked at the door, calling out after his brother the way he usually did when he ran into trouble on a hunt. And Dean would always come running, but this time he was ignored and left alone, almost wishing he was being mauled by a vampire or vengeful ghost. Why did this hurt so much more? Why did it feel like he was being torn apart from the inside out? Lucifer's presence had become a comfort, a familiar safety blanket he could depend on, and now that had been stripped away, leaving him hurting and vulnerable. He felt naked. Had there really been a time when he was without Lucifer? Had he really spent so many years not realising how empty he felt?

Dean wasn't answering, so he screamed for Lucifer instead, called out, pleaded, focused all the energy he had to try and summon him but angel warding was an effective tool as it had ever been.

"No. Lucifer. _Lucifer_."

Sam was a naturally calm person- composed- but now he felt about to fall apart. He knew where Lucifer had been sent away to. Banished. Again, in the way Sam had promised he wouldn't allow to happen. _I promised. _And he knew that place, the cage, where his own soul had been trapped for over a year, where he'd suffered and been tormented, but at least he hadn't been alone. He was struck by a sudden memory of clinging to someone in the dark, fiery depths, of someone clinging to him in return. _It was torture, but never from you. Never you._ They took every blow together, as if they truly were one being. _You are a part of me_.

Somewhere, just faintly, but still there, Sam could hear screaming. He screamed, too.

* * *

"Man, your brother's got a good set of lungs."

Ignoring the attempt at a light-hearted comment from Garth, Dean clenched both fists against his forehead, trying desperately to block out the sound from below. It had been an hour. An entire _hour_ and Sam hadn't fallen quiet once.

"Dean," Garth said awkwardly. "Maybe this was a little harsh."

"No," Dean replied weakly. "No, it has to be done. He can't... He'll be fine."

"What if he hurts himself?" Garth asked, wincing as another bang against the door sounded from downstairs.

"He's safe in there," Dean insisted.

"He's calling for him, you know?"

Dean grit his teeth. "I know, Garth. That doesn't help."

"Actually he's more screaming for him."

"_Not helpful_, Garth."

* * *

Only when he physically didn't have the strength to scream anymore, did Sam collapse onto the floor, shakily wrapping his arms around himself, his throat raw and burning. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice a mere hoarse croak. "I'm sorry."

Sam had felt loss before, too many times for someone his age: his mother, Jess, his father, Ellen, Joe, Bobby... But all those times... They'd been tragic, yes, but casualties of this crazed on-going war that was his life. But this... He could prevent this. He just had to get Dean to _understand_. Or he shouldn't have told Dean in the first place. Who had he been kidding? How could he possibly expect anyone else to understand?

He remembered all the things Lucifer had said. _M.F.E.O. _And they were. They shared a bond that no one else was a part of. Even Dean, Dean didn't know because he had never been able to get close to Michael like Sam had to Lucifer. It wasn't Dean's fault, he just didn't understand.

Weakly, Sam raised his head and looked around the room, searching desperately for anything that could help him get out of here. His gaze stopped on the window. It was small, but still big enough for a person to crawl out of in an emergency, even someone of his size. But there were _bars_...

No, bars could be broken.

He stood, grabbed hold of the chair and dragged it over to the wall under the window, clambering up on top. He gripped the bars and gave them a test shake. They were firm, but old nonetheless. And _not built in_. The bars were on their own wire frame screwed to the window.

He stepped down onto the floor, scanning the room again and again. His eyes fell on the empty breakfast tray.

He snatched up the china plate and smashed it on the floor. A knife would have been best, but Dean had brought him already cut toast with no cutlery. So instead he settled for one of the bigger shards of the plate, clutching it in his hand as he clambered back up onto the chair.

There was the slightest gap between the metal frame and the actual wall. Sam jammed the shared of china in between shifting it about until it wedged in. Slowly, careful not to break it, he began to pry the frame out of place, shaking it to loosen the screws.

It was just beginning to budge when he heard footsteps. Sam stumbled off of the chair, kicking it away from the window just as Dean's face appeared at the door.

"Sammy? I heard a smash."

Sam said nothing, pressing his lips together as Dean peered through the small gap in the door down at the smashed dinner plate. His brother frowned, stepping back and cautiously opening the locks, but Sam made no attempt to charge for the exit. He hastily stuffed the shard he held in his back jeans pocket.

"I'm not letting you do anything crazy, Sam," Dean said, kneeling down and picking up the pieces of the plate, piling them onto the dinner tray. He stood straight and gave his brother a firm look, though he seemed relieved Sam had stopped screaming. "It'll be okay."

Sam nodded shakily. "Yeah, it will be." At least it would when he got out of here.

As soon as Dean was gone- locking the door firmly behind him- Sam was straight back to work, balancing on the chair and using the shard as a wedge. It cracked at one point, but he continued more carefully, shifting the frame enough for the screws to come loose. Pulling at the frame at an angle, his eyes widened in relief as he managed to pull the bottom part out, leaving it hanging from the top fastenings. With one great tug, the whole thing pulled away.

Sam went to throw it aside, but stopped himself, realising it would make a loud noise. Instead he forced himself to be patient, climbing down and carefully placing the frame on the floor. He looked around the room one last time, listened carefully, but hearing nothing from above, he climbed back onto the chair and pushed open the now exposed glass window.

It was a difficult task to haul himself up through the small space, but Sam was determined and wriggled and clawed his way through. He knew Dean or Garth could easily look out the window and see him, so he stayed low, moving on hands and knees until he was round the side of the cabin with an extension that didn't allow for window. He stood straight and ran.

The forest area around the cabin was relatively small and Sam was soon stumbling out onto a country road, wincing in the sudden bright light. He kept going, across a muddy field to another clearing of trees before he was finally satisfied he was out of sight. Once there, he focused, called out and nearly collapsed in relief when Lucifer appeared before him.

The tears were burning at his eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"You're not responsible for your brother, Sam. But I warned you."

"I'm so sorry."

"I could kill him, you know, even now."

He stumbled forward, arms outstretched. "No, please. Please. You promised. I'm sorry." He let his arms drape shakily around Lucifer's neck. "Forget Dean. I love Dean, but he doesn't understand."

"He'll do it again, Sammy."

Sam sighed in relief at the use of his nickname. "Then we'll go, until he learns to understand. Until he knows that I won't let him take you away."

Lucifer wasn't hugging him back. "Go where?"

Sam closed his eyes, his cheek pressed against Lucifer's. "Anywhere." He loved his brother, he did, but there were some things they disagreed on and sometimes a little time apart was best. He stepped back slowly.

"I love you," he said, his voice still hoarse, throat stinging. Perhaps this was the most ridiculous and crazy case of Stockholm Syndrome ever, but right now he didn't care.

Lucifer stared at him blankly for a few moments, before reaching up and clasping both Sam's shoulders. His hands tightened to the point where it was almost painful, before Lucifer pulled him closer and kissed him.

It was far shorter than he would have liked, but they just didn't have time right now. Dean could find out he was missing at any moment. Swallowing as he leant back, Sam fumbled for Lucifer's hand and held on tight. "Come on, we need to find a hotel. A car first. Money. Food." His mind was still shaken, hardly able to form comprehensible sentences. He took a deep breath in to calm himself and headed off further away from the house.

It took a good half an hour of walking before they reached the edge of a small town. It was late afternoon by then and the streets were almost empty. Sam waited until there was no one around before wedging open the door on a dark blue sports car parked at the end of the lot.

They drove for two hours, reaching well into Wyoming before Sam found a hotel he was satisfied was far enough away, paid for with a credit card he found in the car's glove compartment. He would let Dean know where he was... Eventually. Just not yet.

"Enjoy your stay," the fake-blonde haired woman at the desk beamed, earning a half-hearted nod from Sam and an unseen glare from Lucifer.

Usually Sam was a polite person, but right now, the hunter just didn't care. Enough pretending and sneaking around and lying. He was just too tired to bother with anyone other than the one person who knew him too well for him to be able to hide anything anyway.

Barely even bothering to take note of what the room was like, Sam collapsed onto the rickety double bed, pulling Lucifer down beside him.

_I've run away with the devil_, he thought mildly, staring up at the ceiling. It sounded crazy, yet somehow it all seemed to make perfect sense. Sam sighed, turning onto his side and gently resting his forehead against Lucifer's. Crazy or not, it was at that moment he decided that he could not, and would not, allow anyone to take his angel from him again.

"I can't take it," he whispered, well aware he was rambling and hardly making any sense. "I've lost too many people already. I don't care what you are anymore. I just can't lose you, too."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yay, corny end line.**

**Anyway, we have officially hit the 50 review mark! *throws confetti* ("it's a parade!"). So thank you so much. Because I love you all, the rating is going up next chapter *hint hint* ;)**


	10. In Every Sense Of The Term

**A/N: Oh look, the rating went up...**

**Echo**

**By GhostOfRattmann**

**Chapter 10: In Every Sense Of The Term**

Dean would have liked to have convinced himself he was imagining things, but his life had a certain track record of everything that could possibly go wrong indeed going wrong, so unfortunately, he could quiet easily believe this. As much as he didn't want to.

"Sam's pretty damn clever, isn't he?" Garth commented from behind him.

Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Too clever. But he's also too reckless." He kicked out at the wire bars on the floor angrily, twisting his head to stare up at the small- but just damn big enough for someone to fit through- open window. "Dammnit, Sammy."

* * *

"You know, Sammy, I thought you the whole point of our little arrangement here was that you could get some sleep. We're kind of defeating the point here."

Sam sighed, trailing his fingertips down Lucifer's jawline with a languid shrug.

It was nearly three in the morning but he hadn't slept a moment. He wasn't even undressed, still lying on top of the covers as he had been for the past few hours, simultaneously wondering if he'd gone mad while continuing to feel every little detail of Lucifer's face.

"Don't tell me you've lost your soul again, Sammy," Lucifer said. "Dean would likely blame me for that, too."

"Forget Dean," Sam whispered. "He's not blaming you. He's just... He doesn't understand."

"You've said that a good fifty times now, Sammy."

Sam sighed, shifting his hand down to play with the collar of Lucifer's shirt. "I just... I don't want to think about anything else right now." He pulled the collar down slightly, staring blankly at the curve of Lucifer's neck. "I can't do it anymore. I need a break. Leviathans, Cas, Dean, Bobby..."

"You care too much, Sammy."

"Maybe. Maybe that's it." He gave a small, bitter smile. "Perhaps I'm just too soft. I should be kicking you back downstairs, not... Not this. I have the devil at my mercy and what do I do?" He didn't specify, but they both knew anyway. Sam shook his head. "I've gone mad."

"Does that mean I win?" Lucifer asked with a smirk.

Sam huffed in vague amusement. "Won _what_ exactly? It used to be about getting inside me. 'A wrestling match inside my noggin' as you put it. So what game are we playing now?"

"Oh, I don't know, Sam, it might still be about getting inside you."

For a few moments, Sam just stared at Lucifer's face, at the far too amused expression, the corner of his lips just upturned, those blue eyes staring at him with a whole other kind of desire. It wasn't even a suggestion, they'd moved beyond that. They were so close, knew each other so well, blushing and getting flustered seemed silly and pointless.

_Fine,_ Sam thought. _You win_.

He didn't give verbal consent, though from the glint in Lucifer's eyes, he knew the devil could tell what he was thinking. But for once, Lucifer didn't comment, merely shifting on top of him, smirking all the while. As a matter of personal pride, he would not be made to say yes to Lucifer a second time.

The half-whimper, half-groan Lucifer got out of him was a good consolation prize, however, as the devil's tongue slipped deep into his mouth, their hips pressing together as Sam unwittingly arched against the bed with an eagerness that portrayed just how long he'd been waiting for this.

_I want you_.

In a matter of moments, all the control he'd had abandoned him to be replaced with a jumbled mess of thoughts that seemed to short-circuit with every little movement from Lucifer on top of him. He was vaguely aware of kicking off his shoes, then losing his shirt so fast the buttons must have been ripped rather than undone. And without even consciously thinking about it, he was pulling at Lucifer's clothes, feeling his way to get them off as he was too distracted with kissing to bother keeping his eyes open. The cool air- from Lucifer's body more than the room- made his skin break out in chills, his mind and everything else numb as his blood seemed to have abandoned all other body functions to travel quickly south.

His hand reached up to cup the back of Lucifer's head, gripping the dark blonde hair between shaking fingers. He could feel his jeans being pulled off, vaguely noting the sound of the material hitting the floor, he went to reach for Lucifer's belt, but the devil pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss and Sam groaned in protest.

He blinked, briefly too disorientated to even focus his vision, before slowly turning to look up at Lucifer straddling his waist. "What?"

To his surprise, Lucifer was staring just vaguely off to the side, seeming... Hesitant.

"What?" Sam repeated, slightly louder as he propped himself up on both elbows.

"You're a human, Sam," Lucifer said suddenly.

Sam frowned. "Yeah," he said slowly with a small laugh. "Last I checked."

Lucifer turned to face him, expression serious as he gently ran one fingertip along the pattern of Sam's anti-possession tattoo. "I hate humans, Sam."

Sam bit his bottom lip, unsure of how to respond. "And I hate some angels," he said eventually. "And demons. Most demons. Don't look at everything so generally. Yes, I'm human, but I'm also Sam. And you're also the devil. Satan. Evil, supposedly. But you're also Lucifer. And I _love you_, Lucifer, no matter what else you are."

He hadn't really been aware of his own way of thinking until now, but as he said the words aloud, an unplanned stream of consciousness, it made sense.

Lucifer's sharp eyes travelled up to meet his, holding the gaze for a few moments, before he leant in and kissed him once more. The two of them lowering back down onto the bed together, lips never once breaking contact as Sam took the chance to undo his belt and throw Lucifer's jeans over the side of the mattress.

"You were right," Sam said, breathless as he leant back. "We were made for each other entirely. I need you and you need me."

"Two parts of a whole," Lucifer whispered, voice husky against Sam's lips.

Sam shook his head. "No," he said. "Two different wholes that go together. That rely on each other. You're like my shadow, my echo. Always with me, in some sense, at least." His voice trembled on the last few words, all semblance of control over his own body slowly slipping away as Lucifer's hips ground against his.

He felt the chill on his skin as his briefs were pulled away, leaving him fully exposed as Lucifer's cool hand travelled down his torso before brushing just briefly, teasingly, over his erection.

He grit his teeth, head tilting back as his lips parted with a choked moan.

Lucifer studied him slowly, hovering above him as the cool blue eyes took in every detail of Sam laid out before him. Sam had always been so very pretty. He'd wanted him as a vessel he could dress up and look the part in, the regal boy king. Then again, if that had been the case, he wouldn't have been able to admire him so easily as he could now with Sam pinned on the mattress beneath him.

He dipped his head down, kissing Sam's anti-possession tattoo, then further down, his chest and abs, so perfectly sculpted. He hovered over his hips, smirking as his gaze flicked up to briefly admire the look of pleasure on Sam's face, before he ran his tongue, forked as it was, up Sam's shaft, relishing the in the half-sigh, half-moan it drew, before pulling back. Sam groaned.

_No_, Lucifer thought idly. _This is my best torture yet._

"Lucifer... We... We need..."

"Please, Sammy, I can still pull off a few tricks." Lucifer ran his hand down the side of Sam's face and he felt the cold, wet substance of lubricant.

Sam choked out a laugh. "The devil's great power," he teased.

Lucifer ignored the comment, pulling off his own underwear and stroking his hand over his own length, smirk lingering on his face as he saw Sam eagerly watching his every movement.

Sam groaned, wriggling under the devil kneeling over his thighs, desperate to get him to hurry up. He was almost embarrassed at his own impatience. He'd never even done it before, not like _this_, with... But his partner's gender was the least of his concerns right now. The milestone of being about to have sex with another man was rather eclipsed by the fact of being about to have sex with _the devil_. Yeah, no big deal.

A half-moan, half-gasp stuttered out from between his lips. Briefly enclosed in his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed Lucifer dip down to run that damned forked tongue teasingly over his length once more. Sam's hips bucked, sweat breaking out over every inch of his body as Lucifer playfully brushed the two tips up either side of Sam's cock.

"..._damn_." His hand grasped blindly at the air until he grabbed hold of Lucifer's hair, keeping the devil and his icy breath right where he wanted him.

Lucifer, meanwhile, still hand one hand on his own length, coating himself in enough lube to make it less painful for Sammy. He would never hurt him, not really. It was a strange situation to find himself in, though. He'd never thought to use a vessel (or at least this representation of a vessel) in such a way, though a few times back during apocalypse-is-now he'd indulged in a few acts of experimental self-pleasure always while engrossed in thoughts of Sam which he convinced himself were merely about achieving his own perfect form in the Winchester.

"Please," Sam whispered as Lucifer pulled back, staring up at the devil with desperate bright eyes. So very, very beautiful. "Now. Please."

"Say yes, Sammy," Lucifer grinned, parting Sam's legs and settling himself between them nonetheless.

Sam groaned and gave him the most powerful glare he could muster, which is his current state was not much. "Not funny," he insisted.

Lucifer chuckled, gently running one finger, wet with lube, around Sam's entrance. "But I'm an angel, Sammy. I need your consent."

"You have it," Sam growled, clenching the white hotel bed sheets in both hands.

"Say yes, Sammy," Lucifer insisted, absentmindedly trailing his fingertips up Sam's length.

Giving a shaky half-gasp, Sam cursed his own weakness. "Y-Yes," he whispered.

Lucifer casually tilted his head to the side. "Excuse me?"

Sam grit his teeth, his mind adamantly refusing to admit the aching in his cock was in response to this teasing. "You heard me. _Yes_."

Ignoring the devil's satisfied smirk, he let Lucifer spread his legs, arching his back as Lucifer caressed his entrance with surprising care, before slowly pressing the tip of his cock inside Sam's wanton body.

Sam clawed at the sheets, hair clinging to his face with sweat. He was sure his heart briefly stopped at the sudden infiltration, overwhelmed at the strange, unfamiliar experience of being stretched.

"Relax, Sammy," Lucifer whispered, reaching up and running one hand through Sam's hair as he eased further inside him. Despite his appearance of control, his voice shook slightly, a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin.

Sam gazed up at him appreciatively, hands fumbling upwards before coming to rest on Lucifer's upper arms. He wasn't as finely toned as Sam himself, but rather strong and firm, the authoritative form of a man in charge. Sam decided he liked that.

"You're too tense, Sammy." He pushed deeper, cherishing the look on Sam's face that was caught somewhere between discomfort and pleasure. He wrapped his hand around Sam's length, gripping and stroking until Sam unwittingly unclenched enough to allow Lucifer to thrust fully inside of him.

Sam cried out, a broken scream that seemed to dissolve into a moan as the previous discomfort abruptly gave way to an intense pleasure as Lucifer hit on a spot he hadn't even known existed until that moment. It seemed to unlock something inside of him as basic instinct took over and he found himself raising his legs slightly higher for better access, wrapping them around Lucifer's waist as he rocked his hips in time with the devil's thrusts inside of him.

They built up a rhythm, moving together as if they truly were one. Sam gripped Lucifer's arms tighter, digging his nails into the soft flesh, marveling at how he felt so simultaneously hot and flustered while Lucifer's hand still stroking his cock was so perfectly cool and stimulating. He could feel a burning heat pooling in his lower stomach, the blood rushing in his ears and suddenly a glorious burst of light as his vision briefly blazed white. When he managed to blink the world back into focus, mind numb with pleasure and his cock burning, he looked up to find Lucifer's wings spread above him.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he reached up and clenched a handful of the pale feathers and to his great delight, Lucifer actually moaned, faltering briefly in his previously confident rhythm, back arching as he thrust deep inside Sam. The hunter figured wings must be a sensitive spot and grinned at the discovery. They shuddered together, the desperation building within them both as they grasped for one another, Lucifer's hand on his cock, Sam's fingers gripping Lucifer's feathers.

One more thrust and Sam couldn't hold out any longer. With a strangled cry he came over Lucifer's fingers, with a pleasure so intense he was briefly convinced he was going to black out, before it was abruptly redoubled as he felt Lucifer spill inside of him. His hands shook and he unwittingly released the feathers, Lucifer's wings arching up toward the ceiling in climax for several long moments until they were both done and the devil collapsed on top of him, his wings suddenly drooping, two great feathered limbs falling limp over the sides of the bed.

Sam fell back onto the mattress, gasping for breath, burning all over though Lucifer suddenly felt so pleasantly cold on top of him, like a constant rush of cool air on a hot day where both temperatures seemed to compliment the other perfectly.

The apocalypse could have restarted then and Sam didn't think he would have been able to find the strength to move. Only when he finally managed to open his eyes did he realise he was stroking Lucifer's feathers, his fingertips brushing over the surprisingly silky texture in slow strokes. He sighed shakily, letting his eyes fall shut as the tiredness began to catch up with him, his head dropping to the side so he could press a soft kiss to Lucifer's forehead.

He had just done possibly the more impure and horrific act known to mankind in having sex with the devil, and yet nothing had ever felt more, quite simply, right.

* * *

After managing a grand total of one hour of sleep, Dean came to the abrupt realisation that his concern outweighed his anger. Then again, it always did when it came to Sammy. It was only six AM, but he'd waited long enough so snatched up his phone regardless and scrolled straight to his brother's number under his contact list.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dean ran a hand through his hair, a frown of deep concern lining his face as he listened to the ringing of the phone and waited for it to be picked up on the other end.

* * *

**A/N:**

**...well. I'm hoping that wasn't too abysmal. I apologize that I'm distinctly lacking in practice at writing sex scenes, a.k.a. probably not very good at it. But yes, Sammy and Lucifer have finally done **_**it**_**. He is now indeed Lucifer's little bitch...**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and comments of any kind welcome!**


	11. You're Giving Me The Chills

**Echo**

**Chapter 11: You're Giving Me The Chills**

Sam was jolted back into consciousness far sooner than he would have liked. Frowning in annoyance, he reached out and felt along the surface of the bedside table until he found his phone. Holding it in front of his face, he frowned at seeing the caller ID, but decided he should probably spare his brother at least the worry of not knowing whether he was okay.

"Hey, Dean."

"Sammy," his brother's relieved voice came through the other end of the line. "Sammy... You... I mean, what the _hell_, man? Where _are _you?"

Sam sighed, gaze lazily traveling over the large wing draped across his torso. He slipped his other arm out from underneath it, instead running his fingertips gently along the bony part at the top, giving a small smile in amusement as it twitched at the contact as if tickled. "I can't say, Dean," he said blandly.

"What? Why?"

"I just... Need some time away. If I'm not actually there, you might be able to get your head around it better."

"Around _what?_ Your little entourage with the devil?"

Ignoring the sarcasm, Sam shrugged, despite that his brother couldn't see it. "I'm okay, Dean. I promise. I didn't want you to worry I wasn't, but what you did..." He sighed. "Dean, I can't allow that to happen again."

"Sammy, I did it because it was for the best."

"But it _wasn't_, Dean. You're trying to fix a problem that doesn't exist. You're gonna have to start believing me eventually- _I'm okay_."

"But..." Dean trailed off, audibly sighed. "Is he there again?"

"Yes," Sam answered honestly. "I called him back as soon as I could. I told you, Dean, he's staying."

"Look, Sam, I know... I know you're a kind person and all that crap, but it's not your responsibility to be nice to Satan. He's _supposed_ to be down in that cage. You don't have to do this."

"I know it's not my responsibility," Sam replied. "You're missing the point, Dean. I... I want him to stay."

He actually heard Dean splutter in shock. "Excuse me?"

"I want him to stay," Sam repeated calmly. "You're gonna have to understand that, Dean. I know it's not easy, but that's how things are gonna have to be. So, when you're willing to properly hear me out, call me, okay?"

"But Sam-"

"Bye, Dean."

"Sam-"

"Hopefully speak to you soon. I'm ready whenever you are."

"_Sam_."

He cut the call off.

* * *

For a good half an hour, they'd didn't speak. It wasn't awkward, exactly, but Sam had to admit he wasn't sure what to say. 'I had a good time' sounded too insignificant, 'I love you' seemed too cliche- no matter how true. Eventually he just settled for placing his hand on the side of Lucifer's face and running his thumb gently over the devil's lips.

"Lost for words, Sammy?" Lucifer broke the silence at last. "Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"

Sam smiled in amusement, shrugging vaguely as he let his hand trail down Lucifer's bare shoulder.

"Nothing to say, Sammy? Come on, what do I keep telling you about these one-sided conversations."

Sam sighed, the smile still lingering on his face. "I just... I don't know."

"Articulate today, aren't we? And here I thought you were supposed to be smart, Sammy."

Sam huffed, though he had to admit he loved the way Lucifer said his name. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud, of course. He gently shifted Lucifer off of him and moved to sit up, unable to help but wince. He hadn't expected to feel this sore, but sitting up was suddenly distinctly uncomfortable. Perhaps he should have been more concerned about the whole gender-issue here. Then again, he'd been in worse pain, so ignoring it, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, fumbling on the floor for his underwear.

"I'm gonna have to go shopping," he said, more to himself than anything. "I haven't got any clothes with me... Or anything. God, I only brought my damn phone."

He hadn't heard him move, but suddenly Lucifer was sat beside him. Sam slowly turned his head to the side, relaxing slightly as he felt the gentle tingle of icy breath brush his face.

He sighed. "The things I do for you," he mumbled.

Lucifer raised a curious eyebrow. "Is that regret, Sam?"

"No." He shook his head. "Just... Everything's so complicated."

"Is your life ever not complicated?"

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Good point."

* * *

"Do you ever stop working, Sammy?"

They were sat in the hotel's breakfast room at a small table by the window, the early morning sun casting a pleasant glow into the cramped, greasy diner. Despite the tables and chairs cluttered everywhere, there were only a few other guests around. The moment they had entered, without even thinking about it, Sam had grabbed one of the available to borrow newspapers from the rack near the entrance and begun looking through for any potential cases.

He shrugged and turned the page. "It's my job. No matter what else is going on, there's still cases to work, people who need to be saved."

"So _noble_, Sammy," Lucifer insisted.

"What can I get for you?" A perky young waitress asked, approaching the table and grinning a little too eagerly at Sam.

"Er, just some toast, thanks. And coffee, black." He glanced across the table. "Er, make that two coffees actually. Could do with the caffeine." He flashed an awkward grin at the girl who beamed and winked before walking off.

"Buying me drinks now? Is this a date, Sammy?"

Sam actually blushed, hunching his shoulders and keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. "I... I just feel awkward eating while you're just sat there." He tried to keep his voice casual, but the stubborn flush remained on his cheeks.

Lucifer grinned, his gaze slowly traveling over to something on his right. Sam followed his gaze and winced as he realised an old woman at the next table was staring at him with a baffled expression, clearly disturbed by the young man sat in the corner talking to himself.

Ignoring Lucifer's far-too-amused smirk, Sam stared firmly down at the table, clamping his lips together until the waitress returned holding two steaming mugs.

"Here you are, sweetie." She placed the coffee on the table, along with a napkin, which Sam found strange as there were already napkins laid out on the table. At least until she hurried off giggling and he turned it over to find a hastily scrawled phone number.

He jumped as it burst into flames in his hand, his hand automatically uncurling to let the napkin fall to the table. However as soon as it hit the surface, he realised it was perfectly in tact and distinctly not burning. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up to look at Lucifer, eyes narrowed.

"You know how much I hate your damn tricks."

Lucifer's expression was surprisingly serious. "Just giving you a suggestion, Sammy. Though the bin would do."

Sam frowned, opening his mouth to reprimand him, before realisation hit and a grin crept onto his face. "You're jealous," he said gleefully.

The look Lucifer was giving him was far from sharing his amusement.

"I might call her," Sam continued with a mockingly casual tone. "Mind sharing the bed tonight?"

Lucifer reached out and picked up one of the mugs, pointedly ignoring him.

"Bitchy," Sam huffed.

"Oh no, Sammy," Lucifer said, raising the mug in a mock toast. "You're _my_ little bitch, remember? In _every_ sense of the word."

Sam nearly choked on his own drink. Coughing to control himself, glancing anxiously at the side to see the woman on the other table staring at him again with a look that clearly suggested she was thinking of calling the mental asylum. He cleared his throat awkwardly, giving a mild glare to Lucifer who once again looked amused, before deciding that trying to out-sass the devil was just not a good idea.

* * *

They headed to the library for a research session after breakfast. After twenty minutes, it became clear that Lucifer had a new favourite game of spontaneously bringing up last night in the most awkward ways possible.

Sam sat staring firmly down at the book in front of him, though not reading anything, his face flushed as Lucifer, sat opposite, continued an elaborate monologue on the different ways he'd been inside Sam.

Having found no particular minor cases that needed immediate attention, he'd decided further research on the Leviathans was the best way to spend his time. Hence the pile of various religious texts and 'mythic creature' guides in front of him.

"Pleasant creatures, aren't they?" Lucifer said suddenly, absentmindedly flicking through a large leather-bound book with the cover falling apart. "We never liked them."

Sam looked up curiously, previous embarrassment forgotten. "You knew them?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Lucifer said. "We had some interaction with them, in the early days. They're older than us, you know. Dad soon got rid of them when they started to get out of hand."

"They're older than _angels?_"

Lucifer nodded. "Amongst the first creations. Which does explain the shoddy designs, I suppose."

"I thought the designs were rather efficient," Sam commented. "Considering how hard they are to kill. But I get your point. They're not that pleasant. What do you remember of them?"

"Not much," Lucifer replied. "Michael would tell me to stay away from them, which was probably advisable. Gabriel was always curious though, I had to pull him away before one bit his wing off once."

Sam nodded curiously. It wasn't often Lucifer spoke about his brothers, and despite his still persistent reluctance to accept the similarities between the two of them, he had to admit he couldn't help but be interested whenever Lucifer spoke particularly of Michael. Grudgingly, he had confessed to himself at least, that with Lucifer he could relate to the whole older brother thing, if nothing else.

He wondered what Michael would say if he knew about last night. Heck, what would _Dean _say? He firmly decided it was best to leave certain details out, even if he did desperately want his brother to understand. Some things were just too personal, even to share with the brother he loved and looked up to. Some things could only be understood by someone in the same situation, someone like him.

His gaze slowly came to rest on Lucifer's face, ignoring how the devil was staring back at him curiously. _Maybe he is a part of me. Or a reflection. But darker, yes, the darkest part of me but a part nonetheless. A part that follows me and can only be seen in a certain light. He's my shadow._

"Penny for your thoughts, Sammy?"

He forced a smile in response, shaking his head. "It's nothing." He cleared his throat, leaning slightly forward in his seat. "Okay, tell me everything you know about the Leviathans."

* * *

As much as he was ashamed to admit it, Sam knew he wasn't the best with resilience. Current situation a very valid case in point. But still, if something was amiss with his world, Sam had this constant nagging itch to fix it. He hated waiting, especially waiting on other people, so waiting for Dean to make the important decision on whether or not he was willing to accept this situation for Sam's sake, was killing him.

He knew he was being ridiculous, sitting and staring at his phone in hopes that it would ring when he hadn't even given his brother a whole _day_ yet. Dean would need time, obviously. But Sam just wished everything could be sorted right now. Life was too short, especially with a job like theirs where dying young was a real possibility.

He was all too aware of Lucifer loitering in the background. He knew the devil wasn't particularly happy about his distracted state of mind, heck, Lucifer wasn't never really happy with anything to do with Dean. Sometimes Sam had to remind himself to be grateful that Lucifer was willing to try at all to get along with- well, at least to _tolerate_- his brother.

Sam sighed, slamming closed the book he hadn't been reading for the past half an hour. He stood up, snatching his phone from the tabletop and shoving it back in his pocket before heading in the direction of the exit. Usually he tried to put books back in place to save the librarians a job, but right now he just couldn't be bothered with manners.

Lucifer followed him out onto the street, keeping pace to walk by his side. "Where are we going?"

"Shopping," Sam muttered distractedly. "I need to get some supplies. Clothes. I don't know how long it's going to be before I can go back to Dean."

"We," Lucifer corrected. "Before _we_ go back."

Sam glanced over at him, before nodding. "We," he agreed. "Sorry, my mind's elsewhere."

He found a fairly cheap clothes store, gathering a few pairs of jeans in his size. He was flicking through the shirt rack when he suddenly realised Lucifer had been quiet for a good ten minutes. He looked around to search for him, only to find lips on his as soon as he turned his head. Sam was startled only briefly, before allowing his eyes to slip shut, vaguely thankful the store was pretty much empty.

He leant back with a sigh, suddenly feeling distinctly more relaxed. A smile crept onto his face as he took note of what Lucifer was wearing- an all black ensemble of smart (_tight) _trousers and a buttoned shirt, the collar left teasingly open to reveal the smooth hollow of his throat. He found his gaze lingering far longer than it should have on that little bit of skin, a pleasant little shiver traveling up his spine.

"I thought angels wore white," Sam said.

"Angels come in all colours, Sammy. I wanted to dress you all in white, but I think this vessel suits dark shades better."

Sam had to agree, but even so, he had a sudden urge to undo every one of the buttons on that shirt and take it off.

Quickly finishing his shopping hardly without stopping to look what he was buying, Sam decided it was time to go back to somewhere more private.


	12. Any Of This Sound Familiar?

**Echo**

**Chapter 12: Any Of This Sound Familiar?**

Lucifer hadn't been happy in a very, very long time. A lot of people never considered that. Those who did probably thought it was fair enough. Satan, devil, some incarnation of all the evil in the world. You would have thought they would have realised, that with the anger and revenge notions, that this devil did indeed have feelings.

But he wasn't looking for sympathy, especially from these petty humans. But a little... Understanding... An attempt to see things from his point of view... That wasn't unreasonable in Lucifer's opinion.

But after the first few hundred years after he fell, rejected by Michael, his brothers, his _Father_ and everyone, Lucifer had concluded he was alone. So he'd closed his mind to those thoughts and set about setting his sights on practical issues. That was what Sam had been- a _practical_ issue.

Tearing his gaze away from the ceiling, he turned his head to the side to look at said issue.

Sam was fast asleep, lying on his side with his hair falling in his face. The sheets had fallen down to around his waist, his bare chest visible, all chiseled muscles and smooth skin, though not without a few scars. For the longest time all he had thought about was what a perfect vessel he would make, strong and as handsome as any boy king should be.

Perfect vessel, that was what he'd kept telling himself. Vessel, he'd insisted to himself. _Vessel_, that was what this was about.

When he'd finally been freed from that damn cage, he'd felt Sam there. An instant presence that seemed to glow in response to his own. But then it had been ripped away and he'd had to go chasing after it, that light. Only upon entering his dreams had he got a good first look at him. He'd... Admired him. And when finally- _finally_- he'd got inside that form, he'd been already to cast Sam back into the depths of his own body, to give himself full control, but...

When he'd felt that presence so close to his own. Their literal _souls_ entwined...

He'd hesitated.

Never, _never_ before had he ever hesitated with anything. Even with copious amounts of doubt nagging at his mind, he'd always remained resolute. But at that moment, inside Sam, he'd been unsure... Unsure enough to do a not-quite-proper job of casting Sam down. He'd pushed him back, yes, enough to ensure control, but not enough to prevent that bright aura of his soul from just brushing against Lucifer's own presence. Because... well, he'd kind of liked how it felt.

It had been his downfall.

So perhaps that was why he had never been able to hate Sam with the severity he should of. Because this was his own fault, really. He'd been too weak to overcome him. This petty, insignificant human... This human that had been made for him.

Sam shifted in his sleep, nuzzling against the pillow before settling once more, his calf brushing against Lucifer's where their legs were entwined under the covers. Maybe he liked that idea, that someone had been made just for him.

He didn't love humans, of course not. Nothing would ever blind him to their horrendous flaws, their murderous tendencies, and their simple utter inferiority to angels. But sometimes, certain individual beings were cursed with the infliction of being of an unfortunate race that they just couldn't help. But their essence- the pure, utter being of what they were- was something much better and brighter than was worthy of their physical, evolutionary misfortune.

So he could forgive Sam his one fault.

The ticking of the small, motel room clock echoed in the background. It was sometime in the early hours of the morning. Lucifer didn't sleep. He didn't need to, so what better to do than watch Sam as he rested? Watch over him, even. He'd heard all the human fantasies about guardian angels.

Lucifer liked that idea too, he had to confess. At least, to someone, he could still be an angel.

* * *

They'd done it once last night, and again in the morning. Sam lay panting amidst sweat-soaked sheets, hair sticking to his face and cheeks flushed, eyes falling shut as Lucifer leant down to kiss him.

He wanted to reach up, to run his hands over Lucifer's face, down his shoulders and arms and lower. But he simply couldn't find the energy, so settled for caressing him with his eyes instead.

It was around ten in the morning, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. The rest of the world could wait, couldn't it? He deserved just one day, right? One day off. One day with just him and Lucifer and nobody and nothing else.

But just as that thought had settled itself in his mind, the ringing of his phone cut through the peaceful silence.

He sighed, reaching out and picking it up, ignoring the slightly irritated look that crossed Lucifer's face, the same one that appeared every time his phone went off.

"Hey, Dean."

He hoped, vaguely, that this was the call he'd been waiting for, that Dean would say that it was alright, that he was willing to try, that he could accept Lucifer for Sam's sake. But from the moment his brother spoke, he knew that wasn't the case.

"Hi, Sam. Listen, I know you're doing this whole taking time away thing, and okay, but we've still got a job to do."

"I'm still working, Dean," Sam assured him. "I know that. Can't let the people down, right?"

"Yeah, but Sammy some jobs are more important than others. You know which is most important and that's why I'm calling. I think we got a lead on how to take out Dick."

Sam sat up straight, forcing Lucifer to shift off of him. "Really?"

"Think so. It's complicated and we're gonna need Cas' help. And Crowley's." From his tone, Dean was less than happy about that. Sam had to agree.

"Okay, so how do we take him out?"

He listened as Dean explained about the bone and the blood. It sounded complicated, risky and almost impossible, but wasn't everything they did?

"Okay, I'm in."

"Really?" Dean replied. "Sammy, you know I'm still not happy with-"

"I know. But you're right, this is important. But you're gonna have to promise you don't touch Lucifer if I come with you. We can sort things properly afterwards, but if we're gonna do this we gotta focus on the Leviathans. The rest can wait."

He knew Dean was less than happy. He heard him muttering in annoyance through the phone line, before eventually sighing. "Alright. While we're busy taking out Dick, I'm just gonna pretend your little friend doesn't exist."

It was the best Sam could hope for. "Alright. Where are we meeting?"

"At the hospital. We gotta get Cas."

"See you there."

After hanging up, he turned to find Lucifer frowning.

"This is important," Sam explained, tossing the covers aside. "If we can take these guys out, we have to grab the chance."

"And what if Dean's more interested in taking out me?"

"I won't let him," Sam promised. "Even Dean would admit, the Leviathans are more important right now. They're a threat to all of humanity. You're not- at least you're not right now." He gave Lucifer a brief look that seemed somewhere between amusement and wariness. "We need to do this."

Lucifer refused to meet his gaze, though Sam knew he understood all too well.

"I'm going to shower." He stood up and headed to the bathroom. Lucifer stayed on the bed, but Sam knew he was aware enough of the devil to assure he was still present. He'd learnt to recognise the patterns and tricks of their connection and right now it was at it's strongest. He turned the water on and waited for it to reach the right temperature before stepping under the spray.

He'd only just closed the door and turned round before Lucifer's lips crashed against his. For a few moments, he was frozen in shock, before melting into the kiss, a tingle rushing up his spine as he felt Lucifer's body press against his, pleasantly cool despite the warm rush of water.

Only when Lucifer's tongue ran teasingly over his lips did he pull back. "You understand, right? Why I have to go help Dean?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes, but nodded. "I'm not stupid, Sammy. Nor am I the kind of idiot too blinded by my own feelings to comprehend common sense."

Sam could think of a few incidents where that was disputable, but chose not to mention them. "Okay. But I promise, if Dean's still adamant about getting rid of you, we'll come back here. As soon as we're done with the Leviathans."

Lucifer seemed a little more content with that, nodding mildly as he trailed one hand down Sam's chest.

"I need both of you," Sam whispered. "I've lost too many people." His breath caught in his throat as Lucifer's hand gripped his cock. "I-"

"Hush now, Sammy." He slid his other hand up Sam's back and gripped his hair, pulling his head back.

Sam shut his eyes against the spray of water, groaning as Lucifer's tongue ran up the side of his neck, both forked ends tickling his skin. He pressed his hips forward, Lucifer's body equally shifting to meet him so they were pressed together, one of Lucifer's legs snaking around his calf.

The water was starting to get too hot, Lucifer cold, both temperatures burning his skin in opposite ways that interlinked until he could feel both intensely yet unable to tell one from the other. His hands clawed at Lucifer's back, cock already throbbing as Lucifer's hand gripped and stroked until he was almost at his limit, before suddenly pulling away. He groaned, forcing bleary eyes open to find Lucifer smirking at him. He let himself be turned around, bracing himself against the wall, hands slipping on the damp tile.

There really was no time for this now. They should be going, meeting up with Dean and taking out the Leviathans. There were important things to do. Either way, he shouldn't have been having sex with the devil in a motel shower. But he moved his legs further apart when Lucifer nudged him to do so, arching his back, he felt the chill of Lucifer's breath on the nape of his neck, and decided that the rest of the world could wait another half an hour.

* * *

Pushing closed the driver's side door of the Impala, Dean stuck his hands in his pockets, looking up at the hospital in front of him. It was depressing coming here, no matter which of his loved ones was inside. Hunching his shoulders against the wind, Dean headed up the entrance steps and through the creaky double doors.

The nurse allowed him through to 'Mr. Novak's' room. Meg was thankfully absent, Cas sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a spider slowly weaving it's web in the corner.

"Hello, Dean," the angel said before Dean had even thought Cas had seen him.

"Hey," he replied softly, stepping into the room and letting the door fall closed behind him with an eerily loud click. "How you doing?"

"Just admiring the details of God's handiwork," Cas replied, gaze still on the spiderweb.

"Yeah," Dean said awkwardly, glancing uninterestedly up at the spider. "Great."

"You are troubled, Dean."

Damn angelic telepathic powers. Dean shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"Where's Sam?"

"He'll be here soon."

"How is he?"

For a few moments, Dean contemplated telling him everything. But when Cas stood up and walked over to the spider web, reaching up and gently taking the spider onto his hand, Dean decided against it. The guilt was still eating away at Cas, and Dean couldn't bear to put anymore on him. "He's good, yeah."

"Are you sure?"

Dean looked up in surprise at the strange question. "What do you mean?"

Cas shrugged vaguely, shoulders shifting under his trenchcoat. "I removed the bad memories, the pain, but I could not remove Sam's own thoughts and feelings, though I saw them."

Dean raised both eyebrows. "You saw Sam's thoughts?" He paused. "_What_ thoughts exactly?"

"Reading human thoughts is never clear," Cas replied. "But I can pick up on feelings, inclinations, the fabric of human emotions. Your brother has many deep thoughts concerning Lucifer. Thoughts nothing to do with his psychotic issues."

Dean frowned. This topic was difficult enough to discuss with Sam himself, but now Cas was suddenly springing a new angle on him. "What_ kind_ of thoughts?" He pressed.

"They are very confused," Cas said, absentmindedly twisting his hand as the spider walked across it. "At least they were when I saw them. Some were angry- understandable, I suppose. But others... Others surprised me."

Dean swallowed, shoulders tense. "How so? And what makes you think Sam's not okay?"

"I feared he may... Struggle with Lucifer's absence. He was reluctant to let go. For a while I even feared my healing hadn't worked."

Dean stepped forward, trying to get Cas to look at him to ensure he truly understood what he was saying. "What do you mean?"

The angel glanced briefly up at him, the spider sitting placidly on the back of his palm. "I do not think he meant to, but Sam fought me when I healed him. It was then I saw his feelings exposed- anger and fear, but also... Guilt, regret, longing."

"_Longing?_" Dean repeated incredulously.

"He misses him," Cas responded.

"_Lucifer?_ But... But he's the _devil_."

"Bad people can be missed, too," Cas said quietly, crossing the door and gently placing the spider down onto the windowsill. "Someone can be of the darkest heart and mind, they may do the worst things, and yet someone somewhere may still love them." He raised his head slightly, silently studying Dean's reflection in the glass. "And those bad people appreciate it."

Dean turned his head away. "Some are more bad than others," he mumbled.

Slowly, Cas turned round once more. "You know more than anyone how hard your brother's life has been, but Sam is a good person, yet he understands bad. And whether we like it or not, in some sense, he understands Lucifer. There is often a connection between a angel and their vessel, but the strength of the connection I sensed between Sam and Lucifer was surprising. I have never seen one stronger."

Dean frowned, shaking his head. "I don't want Sam to have anything to do with that evil son of a bitch," he said quietly.

"Whatever of Lucifer was with Sam, it was powerless. There is no threat, Dean. Your brother may have an unfortunately strong connection with Lucifer, but Sam is smart. He wouldn't put his other loved ones in danger."

Dean still seemed uncomfortable with the idea, but no matter what protests he tried to come out with, the words died on his tongue. Cas was right. No matter the thousand and one worries over this situation still swimming round his head, he knew Cas was right. Eventually, he sighed and looked towards the clock, vaguely wondering when Sam would arrive because there were a few things they needed to talk about.

_Sam isn't like Lucifer_, he thought. _Not completely. _His mind suddenly drifted to Michael, the angel who he was supposedly the true vessel of. He hadn't liked Michael. _Cocky bastard_. Regardless, he remembered the stories he'd heard, about Michael, the older brother- like him- who had rejected his little brother for being different. _I'm not like Michael_. All-powerful archangel or not, Dean had sworn to himself he would be better than that son of a bitch, that he would never rejected Sam like that. No matter what.

_No matter what_.

Well aware of Cas looking at him in his classic bold and uncomfortable manner, Dean for once chose to ignore it, turning to the clock once more and watching the second hand slowly tick round_. Yeah Sammy, we really need to talk_.


	13. The Paint Slowly Peeling Off Your Walls

**A/N: Okay, apologies for having to change so much of the season 7 plot here. Nothing major, just shifting a few things around for the purpose of the story, but I hope it won't bother people too much. I don't like over-simplifying the amazing detail the Supernatural writers put in, but I want to keep the story mainly focused on Sam and Lucifer and there's not much point rewriting the scenes you've all seen on the show in mass detail. I just need to put all this in in order to get to what I want to do for the ending. Anyway...**

* * *

**Echo**

**Chapter 13: The Paint Slowly Peeling Off Your Walls**

Pulling the stolen car up beside the Impala, Sam killed the engine and pushed open the driver's side door, Lucifer doing the same on the car's other side. They headed inside, along the corridors until they reached the dank room Castiel currently occupied.

Dean was there waiting, standing up as they entered, while Castiel perched calmly on the edge of the worn bed.

"Hey Dean, Cas," Sam greeted, frowning slightly as he took in the look on Dean's face. His brother looked unusually serious, though Sam supposed it was down to the nature of the job they were about to do. "We all set?"

"As we'll ever be. After a little persuasion I got what we need off Crowley. One blood-soaked bone ready to be stuck through Dick Roman's chest."

"Okay." Sam took a deep breath, suddenly all too aware of the dangerous mission they were about to undertake. "Let's go then."

They headed out to the Impala, Dean obviously taking the driver's seat, Sam beside him, smiling briefly in amusement as two angels climbed into the back. He glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the way Lucifer was studying Castiel. Others might have missed it, but he could see a hint of concern on Lucifer's face that betrayed the devil's concern for his brother. Castiel, however, was frowning.

"Dean, Sam," the angel spoke up, just as Dean started the engine. "There is some other power here."

Dean blinked, twisting round to look at Cas in the seat behind him. He glanced uneasily between Cas and his brother. "What power?"

Cas' frown deepened. "I'm not sure. It's... Muffled. Like there's a barrier in the way, stopping me from being able to see it properly."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean gave him a firm look, shaking his head. His point was clear- Cas' mental state was too unbalanced right now. Sam sighed. "You're probably just picking up on something far away, Cas. Maybe you can feel where the Leviathans are or something."

Cas looked uncertain, but nodded nonetheless. "Perhaps."

With things as sorted as they could be, they set off, speeding the Impala in the direction of SucroCorp.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Sam asked.

"Stick this thing through Dick Roman anyway possible," Dean replied with a small, amused smile. However, he quickly turned serious. "Listen, Sammy, when this is done, we need to talk, alright?" He gave Sam a pointed look. "Seriously. Talk properly."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but a smile was simultaneously tugging at his lips. He nodded. "Yeah, I'd be glad to, Dean." His gaze flitted to the mirror again, glancing back at Lucifer who met his gaze briefly.

* * *

"Okay, so we all clear? Me and Cas'll go find the real Dick. Sammy, you get Kevin out, alright?"

"Sounds good to me," Sam said, looking between his brother and Cas as they stood by the Impala. "Good luck, guys."

"You too," Dean replied, nodding sincerely at his brother before he and Cas climbed back into the Impala, leaving Sam stood near a back entrance, awaiting their signal that security were being distracted enough for him to sneak in and find Kevin.

Sam sighed, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. He hated waiting.

"Sammy."

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Sam turned to face Lucifer beside him.

"You know," the devil began slowly, not quite looking at him and clearly trying to act as if his words were not that big a deal. "If I could. I mean, if I had all my powers. I would smite them for you."

A small smile touched Sam's face as he nodded. It wasn't exactly a declaration of mass care and affection, but from Lucifer, it was a surprisingly noble gesture. "Don't worry," he said. "I can handle it."

"I have all the faith in the world in you, Sammy." Blue eyes flickered over him, cold and serious, before Lucifer suddenly turned away. "If anything happens to you, I will hold that idiot brother of your accountable."

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing will happen. It'll be fine. Dean and I always find our way out of these messes somehow."

Lucifer's gaze slid back over to him. "And what if you do? Then what? We're all going to live happily ever after? Somehow I don't think so."

"We've talked about this. You know I won't let anyone take you away from me. Not Dean, not anyone." He stepped closer to the devil, biting his bottom lip as he studied him and truly realised just how much he'd come to treasure that face, that voice, that being that he should have hated but just somehow... Couldn't. "I won't let anyone or anything separate us."

"Good," Lucifer replied, raising his head and meeting Sam's gaze with the usual confidence and pride that Sam would reluctantly admit he treasured. "Because I have no intention of going anywhere."

He knew he should be focused on the mission, but suddenly, he found himself kissing Lucifer, hands gripping the devil's shirt, only then aware he was shaking. Sighing, he leant back, taking a deep breath to calm himself. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Two rings, then stopped.

"Time to go."

"I'll be right behind you, Sammy."

The back entrance was- as predicted- clear, security too preoccupied with storming the front of the building where the main invasion in the form of Dean and Cas was. Sam wasted not time, hurrying up the stairs, quickly checking each room he found.

He froze as running footsteps sounded from around the corner, flattening himself against the wall, eyes searching for a way out. Before he could think to move, two men in suits appeared, instantly heading toward Sam who fumbled in his jacket for the large blade he'd brought to take off any necessary heads.

It slipped in his hand slightly, causing Sam to stumble long enough for one of the men to grab ahold of him, his face twisting gruesomely into a gaping mass of mouth and teeth. He fumbled with the blade attempting to swipe upwards despite the grip on his arms pinning them down, but just as the other man pulled the blade from his hands, a burst of light exploded beside him, the two men crying out in alarm as their eyes burnt out in their heads, hands flailing desperately as if to ward of blindness. The light faded and the men were left stumbling and blind, allowing Sam time to take their heads off with two quick swipes. Sighing in relief, he turned to Lucifer in astonishment, eyes widening as the devil stumbled back against the wall.

"Hey," he yelled, rushing over to support him. "You okay?"

"Fine," Lucifer insisted, adamantly taking his own weight. "Just... What little power I have left I have to channel through you. It limits me. Takes a lot to summon."

"I did wonder how you did that with Dean," Sam commented.

"It's only a changing of forms," Lucifer explained. "Reverting to my true form- it's not even really a power. But it's bright enough for me to be able to push that raw energy through you into the visible world."

Sam nodded, giving the devil a quick once over to assure he was okay. "Thanks for that, anyway. Come on, we better move."

They hurried along the corridor, checking room after room until _finally_ he found Kevin, unpleasantly bound and gagged in true Crowley fashion. Sam hurried over to untie him, Lucifer watching curiously.

"I never understood prophets," Lucifer commented. "They always seemed a cop out for the flaws with you humans not understanding the holy scriptures. And rather pointless in this day and age when most of you wouldn't believe a word they say anyway."

Sam didn't bother responding, herding Kevin out the room as the boy babbled on about needing to destroy the lab. Sam argued briefly before releasing Kevin was right that it was necessary, as they set out searching for it.

Five minutes later, Lucifer pointed out a sign leading upstairs and Sam nodded, dashing in the indicated direction.

They burst through the doors just in time to see Dean stick the bone through Dick's neck, the Leviathan crying out as Sam and Kevin stumbled to a stop. The Leviathan flailed, snapping it's over-sized mouth, before seeming to seize up, black goo leaking from it's form as a ripple of energy trembled through the room.

Sam stared, wide-eyed as the force of it increased, bursting out in expanding, rippling waves. He tried to think what to do, suddenly struck dumb as the energy seemed to pull inward, folding in on itself before exploding outwards with force.

Sam threw himself in the way of Kevin, vaguely aware of exploding black goo flying and a shield of light covering him. He closed his eyes as the room shook, hearing the goo splatter the walls before silence fell.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, standing straight as Lucifer's wing slowly dropped from where it had wrapped protectively around his shoulder. His gaze stumbled from Lucifer to Kevin, checking they were both okay before turning to study the room.

It was empty. No Dick... No Dean or Cas either. He twisted his head in all direction though, in the back of his mind, he knew it was pointless. They were gone. _Gone where? Where the hell had his brother gone?_

"Sam," Lucifer called out. "Behind you."

He whirled around to find Crowley, moments later looking back to find Kevin in the clutches of two demons. He barely heard anything Crowley was saying before the demon clicked his fingers and Kevin vanished. Sam frowned desperately, looking to Lucifer who stared back with a dark look, clearly annoyed at his own lack of ability to do anything.

"I hate that guy," Lucifer commented, sending a dark look over Sam's shoulder at the supposed 'king' of Hell.

"Where are they Crowley?" Sam demanded, spinning back round.

"Sorry," the demon replied casually. "Can't help. Wish I could. You got a lot on your plate right now, but looks like this time you are well and truly on your own."

Another click of the fingers and Crowley was gone.

Sam stood in dumb shock, looking around in a pitiful hope that Dean and Cas would suddenly reappear. He knew he was being stupid. Dammnit, he'd had enough back luck throughout his life to know things never did work out like that. Fighting back tears, he stumbled towards the doorway, unsure he was even going the right way but suddenly desperate to get out of this damn building.

"Sam," Lucifer called out after him.

Sam couldn't focus right now. He pushed through the front door, suddenly feeling horribly faint despite the rush of cool air that hit his face.

"_Sam_."

Blinking to try and snap himself out of it, he looked round for Lucifer only to find the wreck of car park around him empty. He frowned, suddenly searching desperately before Lucifer fizzed into focus to his right. "S-Sorry," he cried, frowning as Lucifer continued to glitch. "I... I'm trying to focus. I-"

"It's not you," Lucifer replied, voice fading in and out. Eventually the image stabilized. "It's something else."

Sam frowned, shaking his head, suddenly gripped with fear for the only thing he had left amongst his grief.

"That explosion. With the Leviathan. It's... Damaged our signal."

"What?" Sam reached out, desperately grabbing hold of Lucifer's hand and clutching tight. "No. _No_, I just lost Dean and Cas, even Kevin, I can't lose you, too."

The image faltered again, but solidified quickly, apparently bolstered by Sam's grip.

"We shouldn't have come," Lucifer said, voice bitter. "That idiot brother of yours dragging you into danger. I knew all along it was a horrid idea."

Sam shook his head, suppressing those thoughts, the guilt-ridden idea that he could lose Lucifer from forcing him into this. "It's okay," Sam said, voice breathless and desperate. "It's okay. We'll fix it." He stumbled in the direction of the Impala, ignoring the smashed windows and climbing in, Lucifer vanishing briefly as he let go before reappearing in the seat beside him.

Sam started the engine, swinging the car round and heading out onto the road.

They were close to Rufus' old cabin, thank God. After ten minutes, Lucifer vanished altogether, but Sam kept driving, manically focusing every ounce of his mind onto pulling Lucifer back. When he finally pulled up outside the house, Lucifer stuttered back into reality.

"I mean it," Sam said, vaguely aware of how broken his voice sounded. "I can't lose you. Not now." He stumbled through the door, unsure of when he'd taken Lucifer's hand, but refusing to let go. He turned to face the devil, tears stinging at his eyes. "How can I fix it? There has to be some way. Tell me."

"Of course there's one," Lucifer said. "But you won't like it."

Sam opened his mouth to question, but the realisation hit him before he could speak. He frowned, shaking his head. "No, there has to be another. I can't... I can't open the cage. You know why. I love you, but I can't trust you, not like that."

Lucifer's eyes dragged up to meet his, studying his face briefly, before holding his gaze full-on. "You wanna know the big secret, Sammy?" He asked suddenly, voice teasingly casual. Sam knew him too well, knew he only resorted to games like that when trying to pretend as if something were not as important as it truly was.

Sam blinked, a soft frown marring his face as he stared at Lucifer in confusion. "What?"

Lucifer's expression hardened, as if struggling to say whatever it was, pride apparently restraining him. "It's no magic coincidence you managed to throw us both in that hole, Sam."

"What? What do you mean?"

Lucifer gave a languid shrug, a bold attempt to pretend this confession was no big deal. "You're in control, Sammy. We've got a special connection, remember? More than all the other angels and their vessels. A while ago, I figured out why."

Sam shook his head, confused. "Why?" He pressed.

"I believe an angel explained to you," Lucifer continued. "Anna, I think her name was. About how an angel's grace falls separately. I lost my grace, Sammy. I managed to cling onto some powers, to later develop new ones, but my grace I lost. Do you know where it is, Sammy?"

Sam stared in shock as Lucifer gently prodded him in the chest with one finger.

"It's you, kiddo. My grace went and latched itself onto you."

Sam frowned, baffled. This was too much to comprehend right now, but regardless there seemed to be an implication to what Lucifer was trying to tell him, something he seemed reluctant to say outright. If he'd been in a more stable state of mind, Sam might have been able to work it out for himself, but right now he was too drained to string more than the most basic thoughts together. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're the one at the wheel, Sammy."

Sam continued to frown, before his eyes slowly widened. "You mean I'm... in control. Of you. Even if... If you were here. Properly here."

"Bingo."

"W-Why? How?"

Lucifer shrugged loosely. "I think it may have been daddy's last joke. Take my grace and give it to one of the creatures I lost it over. There's probably a lesson in here somewhere. My father likes giving lessons."

Sam was struggling to take all this in, but as Lucifer's image faltered again, he found himself forcing a calm state, like he'd had to do so many times in the past. Many, many times in his life Sam had been given incredibly valid reasons to just give up and break down, yet every time he managed to drag himself back together. Maybe that was a worrying sign of being used to agonizing emotional pain, but he couldn't dwell over that now. "Is there a way?"

Lucifer's gaze slid over to look at him, giving him a hard look as if unsure whether Sam was being serious. It reminded Sam eerily of the day he'd come to Lucifer to say yes.

"Is there a way?" Sam repeated more firmly. "A ritual, anything. I'm never gonna be able to get the horsemen's rings, besides, we can't let Michael out or the apocalypse is back on. But to bring you- just you- here? In your old vessel?"

Lucifer regarded him silently for a few moments, head tilted to the side. "You know, I could still fight you. I get one moment of you distracted and I could snap your neck."

Sam shrugged tiredly, shaking his head. "I know. I don't trust you, Lucifer, I like to think I'm not completely stupid. But I need you. Besides, didn't you say you'd never hurt me?" Maybe he was truly crazy, putting faith in the words of the devil, but so far, Lucifer had kept to that one promise at least.

Lucifer flickered again, a frown on the devil's face as he studied the fuzzing image of his own arm. "There is at least one ritual in existence. I can't say I know it though. You'd have to put it together yourself. And it would be complicated, absurdly so."

Sam nodded slowly. "Okay then."

Lucifer dropped his arm, looking to Sam once more as if he really wasn't sure he was being genuine. "You're really willing to do this? For me?"

Sam smiled bitterly, throwing his arms out in an exasperated shrug. He sighed, meeting Lucifer's gaze with tired eyes. "What have I got left to lose?"


	14. Running Towards Me

**Echo**

**Chapter 14: Running Towards Me**

Sam didn't bother with sleep. It wasn't as if he wouldn't have been plagued with nightmares anyway, if he even managed to drop off. Instead he decided to make the best of every minute they had, pulling books off the shelves of Rufus' cabin and sitting down to an intense studying session of every known summoning ritual in existence.

Lucifer had fizzled out of existence again, but Sam was forcing himself to remain calm, one part of his mind always focused on the devil, searching deep inside himself for what linked them together. He was still baffled by the idea of having Lucifer's grace in his possession, but he saw no reason why Lucifer would lie to him over that of all things. If anything, it was shocking that Lucifer would admit to anything that revealed him not to be as in control as he always tried to portray.

Taking a shaky breath in, Sam turned the page of the thick, old book he was reading, a pencil held idly in his other hand, above an already nearly full page of scribbled notes.

A presence appeared behind him. Sam sighed in relief, pulling out the chair beside him, keeping it close to his own in hopes that proximity would help... Well, that, and he just wanted Lucifer near to him. Screw it. Sam had long stopped caring for the worrying signs of his own mental state.

"Found anything?" The devil asked, peering down at the pages sprawled across the table.

Sam gave a vague shake of the head. "A few things... Common themes in strong rituals... Nothing solid yet." He paused. "How's... How's things in the cage?"

"Michael tried to tear me apart," Lucifer said mildly. "Angry at me being gone for so long." Sam could hear the tinge of bitterness in his voice. He understood why, even if he thankfully couldn't relate to having one's own brother set on killing them.

He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He couldn't think of Dean now. It was too painful. He had to focus on the problems he could fix.

"How's Adam?" He asked instead. He tensed. "You didn't-"

"I haven't touched him," Lucifer promised.

Sam nodded, another thought, hopeful but unlikely sneaking into his mind. "Is there... Is there any way we could-"

"No, Sam."

Sam sighed. It had been worth a try, but it was going to be hard enough to pull Lucifer out, let alone Adam, too. He turned the page again.

* * *

It was four AM when he first found something significantly helpful. Two hundred pages into an old volume on blood magic, there was a section on the power of 'close blood ties' to overpower other bonds.

_Believed by old witches,_ the book read, _that the essence of the soul flows through the veins. Parts of a soul will want to reunite with itself, able to overcome other such magic to return to it's own being. A soul divided seeks to link back together._

"Is a grace like a soul?" Sam asked, surprised by the hoarseness of his own tried voice after having not spoken for several hours.

"In some ways," Lucifer replied. "A bit like how a pencil is like a pen, similar but made of something different."

Sam sighed. "Any chance this could work?"

"Just a blood spell, no. Something more complex of the same concept, maybe."

It was something at least. Sam carefully copied the words down to his notes, marked the page, and reached for another book.

To his surprise- and despite his boredom in the library that one time- Lucifer was looking too, flicking through a volume on angel lore.

"More than half of this is wrong," he commented.

"Well I doubt whoever wrote it had actually ever met an angel," Sam replied. "Probably just interested in the concept. Either way, sometimes the most useful information actually crops up in the worst books. You wouldn't believe the amount of times I've stumbled across the answer I was looking for amongst some ramblings of these fake experts. It's ironic, really."

"Or a total waste of time," Lucifer drawled, frowning. "You humans really are incompetent."

Ignoring the jibe at his race, Sam reached over the pile of books for his cup of coffee. Strong and black enough to keep him conscious until morning.

Beside him, Lucifer's image faltered again and Sam drained the cup, slamming it down on the table and opening up another book. He shuffled his chair over until the side of it was touching Lucifer's, shifting so their legs were touching from hip to ankle. He could sense Lucifer staring at him, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly when the devil leant over and pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to the side of his temple.

* * *

By one PM the following afternoon, Sam was struggling to keep his eyes open. It seemed he was once again foregoing sleep for Lucifer, though in an entirely different sense this time, which was probably why he was so surprised when Lucifer suddenly grabbed hold of him, hauled him up and all but shoved him in the direction of the bedroom.

"I'm fine," Sam insisted, purposefully ignoring the obvious slurring of his own voice as he struggled to find the strength to even form the words.

Lucifer ignored him, pushing Sam up the stairs and into the bedroom. "You're no good to me exhausted, Sam." Once there, he pulled them both down onto the mattress, positioning himself in Sam's arms and shuffling up close.

Sam sighed, hating that his eyelids were already drooping. He mumbled a couple more weak protests, before giving in and burying his face in Lucifer's hair.

He'd expected nightmares, but either he'd been too tired to even dream or he just didn't remember them, as next thing he knew, he was waking up to find the clock read nine PM.

Lucifer was still beside him, blue eyes watching him as Sam slowly leant up on one elbow, rubbing at his eyes with the other hand.

"You're still here," the hunter commented, the relief clearly evident in his voice. "Did you manage to stay here the whole time?"

To his surprise, Lucifer frowned slightly. "I put myself in your dreams so our consciouses would be closer together. Do you not remember seeing me?"

Sam pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "I don't remember what I dreamt about."

His confusion increased further when Lucifer actually seemed disappointed. "Nothing?"

"No." He paused briefly. "Sorry," he said, though he had no idea what he was apologising for. "I didn't miss anything important, did I?"

Lucifer looked away, gaze absentmindedly following the crack of moonlight running along the floor from between the curtains. "No, it doesn't matter."

"We should get back to work." Sam stood up, dusting himself off and heading downstairs with Lucifer following.

He stopped briefly in the kitchen to make some more coffee and grab a couple of slightly-stale-but-still-edible nutrient bars to keep himself going, before dropping back into his chair at the table and picking up where he'd left off.

Lucifer sat in the chair opposite him, fingertips pressed together below his chin, blue eyes watching Sam with an intensity that made the hunter feel suddenly flustered.

Sam shifted in his chair, reminding himself that he needed to focus on working out this ritual if he was going to be able to hold onto what they had here. No matter how those eyes made him feel like the devil was undressing him, his desire to let Lucifer throw him down on this very table and do whatever with him would have to wait.

* * *

"DNA of the physical form? What the heck does that mean?"

"I believe," Lucifer replied, sat on the edge of the table with one foot propped on Sam's chair. "It means we need something from Nick."

Sam looked up at him curiously, raising both eyebrows. "I thought the guy died." He paused. "You really gave him a raw deal, you know?"

Lucifer glared mildly, shrugging his shoulders. "The guy had a raw deal anyway. Besides, he _did_ say yes. It was his choice."

Sam rolled his eyes, glancing back down at the book. "So is he dead or what?"

"Yes," Lucifer replied. "But we only need something small. A hair even would do. I'd suggest we go to his house and find something."

"Where's that?"

"Pike Creek, Delaware."

"_Delaware?_ That's over a thousand miles away."

To his surprise, Lucifer suddenly struck out at the table, slamming his fist down and causing a large crack to spread across the surface which Sam almost truly believed before he blinked and suddenly realised there was nothing there at all.

"Powerless," Lucifer muttered, the bitterness in his tone all too clear. He turned away, shoulders tense and knuckles white where he was gripping the edge of the table. "This is ludicrous. It would usually take me an instant to zap us there."

"_Hey_," Sam whispered, reaching out and placing his hand on Lucifer's thigh. "I'm not blaming you or anything. I know you're doing all you can. Okay, so it's a thousand miles off, but we can get there in just over a day."

Lucifer let out a frustrated breath between his teeth, slipping off of the table. "How do you humans cope with this... This _inefficiency?_"

Sam shrugged. "We're used to it, I suppose. I guess life would be easier if you could do things with a snap of your fingers, but it also makes things more worthwhile when you have to work for them."

Something in that seemed to quell Lucifer's anger slightly as he looked over his shoulder at the hunter. "I love you," he said.

Sam couldn't help the way his eyes widened. At some vague point he'd grown comfortable with saying those words to the devil, but this was the first time he'd heard Lucifer say it back. He'd been wary, a part of him always cautious that perhaps Lucifer was just using him, but there was something in those words, in his tone, that convinced Sam that was not the case.

"I told you that last night," Lucifer continued slowly. "In your dream. I know I shouldn't take it personally that you didn't remember..."

"No," Sam said quickly. "It wasn't... I..." he sighed, shaking his head to himself. "I'm sorry," he added. "Of course it wasn't personal. Humans just don't always remember our dreams."

Lucifer turned to face him properly, frowning somewhere between confusion and disagreement. "Such peculiar creatures you are. Such _flawed_ designs."

Sam gave a weak smile and shrugged. "I guess we are. Still love me?"

Lucifer hesitated briefly before replying. "For some reason, yes. Yes, I do." He looked away. "I still hate this damnable race, the state you've left this planet in, but amongst six billion of you, you're the one exception."

"Well," Sam replied, pushing himself up from the chair. "That's a start." He walked over, placing his hands gently on Lucifer's shoulders. "I love you, too." He let his head drop down slightly so their foreheads were just touching. "I must be mad but I love you, too. And I refuse to lose you now." His eyes were shut, but he felt Lucifer's form waver slightly under his hold.

"I don't know how much longer this connection will last," Lucifer said. "There's a chance I might disappear on you and not be able to find a way back before we reach Delaware."

"I'll bring you back," Sam promised. "If you can't find the way back, just wait. I'll do it. I swear to you." He pulled back from the devil with a sigh. "Just wait for me."

* * *

Inevitably the connection did break halfway across the state of Iowa. Sam forced himself to remain calm, though his hands tightened on the wheel and he pressed the accelerator all the harder.

He had to make several stops for gas, buying food at the stations and eating in the car. He slept once, at the side of the road, waking after only three hours and deciding that was more than enough. Really, he'd only actually bothered to sleep because he'd been hoping Lucifer would appear in his dreams but no such luck.

Approaching eight at night and nearly thirty hours after he'd set out, Sam finally pulled up in Pike Creek, Delaware outside the address Lucifer had told him.

It was a rather nondescript house in a typical American suburb, though the garden was slightly overgrowing, which Sam imagined was due to the absence of anyone living there. He wondered if the neighbours had ever called round to find Nick, or whether this was just the type of area where people kept to themselves. Even so, he pondered on the reactions of those who had known him- friends, family, coworkers- if they found out what had truly happened to the guy.

_Running off with the devil?_ Sam contemplated. _Sounds so crazy._ He paused, almost laughed. _And that's exactly what I'm doing right now. More so, I'm running back to him. Toward him. Lucifer was always right about that one thing, at least._

He broke his way in efficiently enough, picking the lock on the door with ease, well used to such tasks thanks to the job.

Much of the house was covered in a grimy layer of dust, but Sam ignored it and headed upstairs, figuring the bedroom was the most likely place to find what he was looking for. It took him three attempts of peering in doors to find it, though he was surprised to find a baby's crib in another room.

He couldn't dwell on that now though, so Sam made his way into the master bedroom, poking around the dust-ridden sheets on the unmade bed until he found a single blonde hair just under the pillow.

Sighing in relief, Sam threw down the duffel bag he'd been carrying and quickly set about his work.

It was indeed the most complicated ritual he'd ever seen, but he supposed nothing less could be expected for summoning the devil himself.

He lay the hair in a small brass bowl, covering it with a sprinkling of ground up saint's bone (something that had been horribly difficult to find), herbs and finally his own blood which he cut from his hand. Also required were several gallons of demon blood, with which he painted symbols and sigils on the walls, carefully marking each one out and double-checking them against his notes.

Next he crouched on the floor and drew out a set of linked lines, joined by circles in which he laid out six candles, one in each. He didn't light them yet, turning his attention back to the bowl in the centre and the last necessary ingredients.

He understood now that he and Lucifer were one. He was bound to the devil, whether he liked it or not, but the devil was also bound to him. He'd always been so uncomfortable of the idea of himself being so linked to Lucifer that he'd never stopped to contemplate that the connection worked both ways. He knew this summoning would tie them together once and for all, bringing Lucifer back through to this world, but under the supervision of the keeper of his grace. Essentially, he would spend the rest of his life with the devil.

Sam found he was surprisingly okay with that.

Into the bowl he put a little of his own spit, followed by a small vial of his semen which he'd collected a couple of days ago. He'd found the idea rather disturbing when he'd first come across it in one of the oldest books, but on reflection it did make sense- blood and spit and seed, three earthly, physical things that represented himself and everything he was. It would take every essence of himself to call back to him the one part of him that was missing.

He lit the candles one-by-one, ensuring none were about to burn out, before he threw the match into the bowl, watching it spark before he began to recite the Enochian incantation he'd been repeating all the way here until he knew it by heart, carefully sounding out the strange guttural words.

He knew there was no exact translation between Enochian and English, but Lucifer had told him the rough meaning:

'I summon you, celestial being

Unto my presence, bound

By my conjoined spirit,

We shall be as one

I, that was made for you,

Bring you unto me,

That belongs to me,

To be with me, always.'

As the last sound left his lips a horrid silence overtook the room briefly. Sam's eyes darted around the room, breath ragged in fear that it hadn't worked, when a sudden burst of light seemed to erupt from nowhere, forcing him to shield his eyes.

Through the gap between his arms covering his face, he squinted at the light that seemed to fill the whole room, watching as it twisted and swelled before contracting on itself to form a shape.

Gradually, it died down, the room fading from unbearably bright to a soft, almost pleasant glow, that gradually dispersed and vanished. Sam let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding as wonderfully familiar blue eyes turned to meet his own. He was there, whole and solid and complete right down to the pale, golden wings spread from his back.

"Lucifer..." He staggered forward, reaching out to him in what was possibly going to be an embrace before a hand closed around his neck.


	15. Two Halves Made Whole

**Echo**

**Chapter 15: Two Halves Made Whole**

Maybe it was because he'd truly believed, maybe it was just shock, or perhaps due to that significant detail (Sam had thought it significant, anyway) that he loved him, but for whatever reason, Sam didn't fight back, even when the pressure on his throat became painful.

Perhaps it had been the right thing to do because not even ten seconds passed before the hand was suddenly gone and he staggered back as Lucifer stood and stared at him with a disturbingly unreadable expression.

"You actually did it," he said. There was a pause. "Why?"

Sam clenched his lips together, shaking his head with a mild shrug. He knew he should be panicking right now, but somehow he just couldn't seem to manage it. "I promised, didn't I?"

Lucifer looked him over, his gaze scrutinizing. "You are a poor, naive individual, Sammy. So trusting, so desperate for affection."

"Only as desperate as you," Sam replied, the words falling from his lips before he'd even consciously thought about it. It was a mad, reckless thing to say, but somehow he didn't regret it.

And again, perhaps it had been the right thing to do, because in that brief moment he saw the truth in Lucifer's eyes. He saw everything, including himself reflected right back.

So Sam just stood there. He merely watched as Lucifer raised one arm, watched his fingers clench but nothing happen. He saw the devil's teeth grit and his head shake.

"Why?" He hissed, barely more than a whisper as he stared at Sam as if the answer were written somewhere on his body. "Why can't I kill you? I _can_, I could."

"But you won't," Sam said quietly. "I know you won't."

Lucifer let his arm fall back to his side, his wings drooping, a tired breath escaping him as Sam stepped forward once more until there was hardly an inch between them. Lucifer met his gaze briefly, before languidly turning his head to the side, staring out the window at the dark sky. "You win."

Sam shook his head, finishing what he had intended and wrapping both arms around the devil- angel, his angel. "No," he said. "We win. You and me." He sighed, closing his eyes and marveling at how solid Lucifer felt in his hold. "I love you."

It took a good thirty seconds, but eventually, Sam felt the wings enclose on him and wrap around them both. "Let my father know his last pathetic joke has worked. Screw the rest of this damn planet and everyone on it, but I love you, too, Sam. I do."

* * *

It turned out Nick had a hot tub. Lucifer had come out of Hell rather mussed and Sam hadn't been much better after fiddling around with blood and herbs and all the other things he'd needed for the summoning ritual.

He sat behind Lucifer, gently scrubbing his wings until they obtained the fine, silky state worthy of an archangel.

"Did you ever think I would do it?" Lucifer asked suddenly, breaking the humble silence that had fallen over them for the past fifteen minutes,

"Kill me?" Sam shrugged. "It was funny, I thought about it before I brought you back, even worried about it, but when your hand was around my neck I just somehow... _knew_."

Lucifer sighed, caught somewhere between resentment and grudging acceptance. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you knowing me so well, Sammy."

"Funny," the hunter commented with a small smile. "I often think the same thing about you."

Lucifer drew his wings in, turning round so they were face-to-face, the feathers trailing ripples in the water's surface. "You do realise that this is forever, right? Quite possibly in the literal sense. I am all but immortal, Sam, and I meant it when I said I intend to keep you."

Sam just nodded. "I know." He shrugged. "Sometimes I feel a little intimidated by it, but then I just think that we've always been together in some sense, really. So we just carry on the same."

"I know you're not happy, Sam. Not completely. You miss Dean, Castiel."

"Yes," Sam replied honestly. "But I have no idea where they are. If I ever get some clue, any hint, I can't say I won't try and find them but for now..." He paused, sighed and dragged his eyes up to meet Lucifer's. "For now, I still have you at least, and for that I'm grateful."

"So what now?" Lucifer asked. "We go off and live happily ever after?" He tilted his head to the side, raising both eyebrows with clear sarcasm.

Sam smiled mildly and shrugged, the water rippling around him. "I don't know. I feel I should keep hunting; there's people who will always need saving."

"Humans," Lucifer muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Humans I want to help," Sam insisted. He sighed. "Look, even though you've now got your mojo back, I don't expect you to help me or anything. And I haven't forgotten what you said about your grace and that I may be able to control you."

Lucifer gave him a mild glare. "If you think you're going to be able to keep me on a leash, forget it."

"I know that," Sam replied. "But I am glad I can... keep track of you. I don't want you to hurt people, Lucifer."

Lucifer just shrugged. "The apocalypse is off, Sammy. So don't worry, I have no immediate purpose to going round destroying nations."

"Then what do you want?" Sam asked. "I'm serious. You said once you want me to be happy. I want you to be happy, too."

Lucifer slowly dragged his gaze up to Sam's face. "You really are a strange creature, Sam. Wishing happiness for the devil."

Sam's lips twitched into a small smile. "Well if you're a freak, I'm one too. But I'd like to think I still have a shot at happiness, so yeah, I think you do, too." He sighed, raising one arm, the water trailing off of it, to gently touched the side of Lucifer's face. "Now tell me, what do you _want?_"

There were a few moments silence, before Lucifer finally replied. "I have nowhere to go, Sam. No purpose. No apocalypse, no fight with Michael, forever cast out of my own home. In all honesty, Sammy, I think for now, I'm content to just be with you."

And Sam smiled. "That's good."

"Why?"

"Because it means we want the same thing."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "This could end disastrously, you know."

"I know," Sam said. "But pretty much everything in my life has always had that risk, so I'll take the chance."

* * *

**One year later...**

"GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!"

Sam groaned, batting one arm half-heartedly in the direction of the shout that had just penetrated his ear, frowning into the pillow at Lucifer's laughter before raising his head to glare at his angel. "I've told you not to wake me like that."

Lucifer merely smirked in response, stood beside the bed with his arms folded. "But it's time to get up, Sammy. Can't have you getting lazy now, can I?"

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes as he glanced toward the clock on the hotel room bedside table. "Alright, alright, I'm up." He sighed, dragging himself out of bed and toward the bathroom, noting with a smirk as he passed him that Lucifer was wearing the black hooded jumper Sam had brought him, rather than that usual outfit of Nick's which he was ridiculously attached to.

"So, what are our grand plans for today?" Lucifer questioned, following him through to the bathroom as Sam turned on the tap and began to clean his face.

"We need to follow up on that lead about a poltergeist at that hotel," Sam replied, patting himself with a washcloth. "So get your suit on cause we're gonna need FBI access."

He blinked and Lucifer's outfit had obediently changed, a finely tailored suit now adorning his form, though the two great wings still splayed from his back.

"And put the wings away," Sam added with a small smile, reaching for the toothpaste.

"But you like the wings, Sammy."

"_Yes_, but they may attract a rather unwanted amount of attention out in public." He met Lucifer's gaze in the mirror. "Besides, maybe I want to keep them all for myself."

He fought back a smirk as Lucifer actually did as he was told, spinning round to capture his angel's lips with his own. He did indeed know Lucifer too well.

"Right," he said, leaning back with a smile. "I'll get dressed, we'll get breakfast and get going."

"Or you could just go out like that," Lucifer commented, pointedly looked over Sam's tall frame, currently dressed in just a pair of navy boxers.

Sam gave him a mild glare as he passed back into the bedroom. "I'd really rather not."

Lucifer shrugged as he followed. "Perhaps I'll just remove your clothes when I feel like it."

"Don't you dare," Sam said firmly, remembering all too well a couple of months ago in the library when Lucifer, bored and whining for his attention, had resorted to snapping his fingers and making Sam's clothing disappear. Needless to say, Sam had been less that pleased.

Once in his own suit and ready for a day of hunting, Sam led Lucifer over to the hotel's nearby diner, taking a seat in the corner by the window.

He glanced round at the few other occupants around at eight am on a Tuesday morning, silently wondering what they thought of the two men sat in the corner. The rest of the world could see Lucifer too now, though he still occasionally chose to make himself invisible to all but Sam. But appearing as he did right now, Sam silently marveled at the obliviousness of their fellow diners to the fact that the devil sat amongst them. He supposed they merely appeared to be two friends sat having breakfast together, perhaps even- and Sam blushed slightly at the thought- a couple. Though Sam had awkwardly and blunderingly referred to Lucifer as his boyfriend once and the devil had given him a look caught between amusement and disgust that showed all too clearly what he thought of that title.

"You're my mate, if anything, Sammy. That's how an angel would refer to it."

"Well, 'mate' is something humans use to refer to animals," he had replied.

"Anything's better than _boyfriend_. It sounds as if we're in high school." He had paused and grinned. "Actually, it's still easiest to refer to you as my little bitch."

Sam had rolled his eyes, shaking his head and pointedly ignoring the last comment. "Boyfriends can be adults, too. There's nothing immature about it. Or do you really want to get properly hitched so I can call you husband instead?"

"That's another thing," Lucifer had said. "Why do you humans need some official document for everything? What difference does signing a form make to a relationship?"

Blatantly ignoring that Lucifer had a point, Sam had huffed and attempted to walk away, but Lucifer had followed him, as always. "It's not just about some document. It's about making a commitment and dedication."

"We've been dedicated to each other since you were born. Literally. M.F.E.O., remember?"

"Yes, but... Just..." Sam had sighed, silencing his angel with a kiss instead. "Forget it," he'd said with a tired smile. "We don't need titles or anything. You're a part of me, I think that's commitment enough."

Biting his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the memory, Sam looked across the table at Lucifer, caught in one of his many wondrous moments of contemplating how on earth they'd ended up here.

Sighing, he reached out and entwined their fingers, feeling the now familiar and recognisable flicker of Lucifer's grace inside of him at the contact.

And Lucifer squeezed his hand in response, a content smirk lingering on his face. It was a small sign of affection, but just the type of thing Sam treasured. He knew that maybe Lucifer would never get over his hatred of the human race, that he was still vicious and cunning and would not hesitate to kill anything in his way, but still, if Lucifer could love Sam, just one human being in six billion, he had to feel that that was just the smallest bit of progress.

* * *

Unknown to the two of them sat at that table in the corner in one of the thousands of diners in America, somewhere, a few hundred miles away, there was a flash of light. In fact, it was a doorway, that stayed open only briefly to allow one figure to stumble through, panting, bloody, and covered in mud.

Dean Winchester, once sure he was back and safe and out of the horrid place he had been, sheathed his battered weapon, sighed, and set off to find his brother.

The past year had been tough for him, as it would be for any unfortunate human stuck in a place such as Purgatory. The stress and chaos of it all had perhaps even been enough to make him forget about the talk he'd intended to have, about everything that had happened, and left him assured that he would find his brother alone.

* * *

Also unknown and unseen to the two sat in the corner, another man was seated in the diner at that moment, a few tables away but with a clear view, and a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

The man watched the two of them with a smile, unseen to them merely because he chose to be unseen. Though part of him almost wanted to let them know that he was here, that he had seen and observed and watched them make the right decisions. Really, he just wanted them to know he was proud of them.

The rest of the diners could see him, but left him unbothered and alone, just another simple man sat amongst so many others. If they had asked, he would have told them his name was Chuck, but Sam knew that already, if only he could see him now. If Lucifer could, well, he would of course know him as someone- something else.

Chuck leant back in his chair, smiling with them as Lucifer whispered something to Sam which made him laugh. The sight made him wish he could match every angel with their own human, but this was a lesson Lucifer specifically had needed to learn and despite all the pitfalls Chuck had never once given up hope that he would.

He knew Dean's return would be a challenge for his son- Lucifer never had been good with sharing- but he was confident Sam could help him through it.

The smile still on his face, Chuck finished his coffee and stood up, his gaze still lingering on the couple in the corner. He straightened his shirt, pushing the chair in and turning away toward the exit.

The little bell on the door chimed, though neither Sam nor Lucifer saw the man leave. In fact, nor did they notice that the previously wilted single red rose on the windowsill beside them suddenly unfurled and bloomed bright within it's vase, as if overjoyed with the presence of two figures beside it who, unknowingly- in some sense, at least- had always been destined to end up here.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Oh my God (pun fully intended) it's done! Thank you all so much for reading this far and even more so if you've been kind enough to review. I hope the ending wasn't too corny but Sammy and Luci deserve some happiness dammnit!**

**Anyway, thank you so much again for being lovely readers and motivating me to finish this. I also apologise for being mean with the cliffhanger in the last chapter (actually I regret nothing...), but hopefully this happy chapter made up for it.**

***hugs lovely readers and skips away***


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